Going Back to Yesterday
by Jennie
Summary: AU. 2 years post ROTS. Spoilers. Padmé awakens from a coma to find the galaxy quite different than it was when she was last awake. Troubled with the changes, the only thing on her mind is searching for her husband...
1. Prologue

**Title: **Going Back to Yesterday

**Chapter:** 01?**  
Author: **Alethia/ Jennifer**  
Status:**Incomplete

**Timeframe: **a couple of years post ROTS**  
Characters: **Padmé, Anakin/Vader at the moment, but expect Bail Organa, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Emperor Palpatine and assorted others to appear eventually.**  
Genre: **Drama, Angst, Romance

**Warnings: **This will _not_ be a pleasant ride. It is a **dark **fic and this is the **edited **version of it, since the unedited version is too highly rated to be posted here. There are also **spoilers**. Read at own risk.

**Rating:** Edited: PG.

**Summary: **AU. After giving birth to the twins, instead of dying, Padmé slips into a coma. Two years later, she awakens to find the galaxy much changed from when she last knew it. But the formost thing on her mind is seeking out her husband…**  
Notes: **This started out as a random idea, as most all fics do, I'd assume. Getting back into the fandom after an almost three year absence, this idea popped into my head and after a bit of wrangling with it, I got it to work. At least I hope so…

I don't want to keep you from the story, so I'll just quickly say that this is the edited version and that if you wish for the unedited version, you'll have to PM me. But please no one under eighteen or the legal age in their country.

I'd like to thank Kimberley (**VaderLVR64**) for being a wonderful beta and Jennifer (**hansgirl1031**) for being a great friend and sitting up with me on IM, talking about all sort of things and, most of all, making me _write_. I don't think I could do this without either of you two.

I'd like to get some kind of updating schedule going, but I don't know if that's possible or not. I am in school and am very active outside of school, so I have times when I disappear completely and times when I'm on here for hours. Just all depends and things change quickly, so I can never tell before hand. But I'll _try_ to update fairly regularly.

Questions, comments? Either post something or PM me. I usually _do_ check PMs every day.

And without further ado, since I meant to make this _short_ and didn't quite succeed, I present to you:

_**Going back to Yesterday:**_

_**Prologue**_

"I cannot go back to yesterday, because I wasn't the same person."

Lewis Caroll.

"Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes."

Carl Gustav Jung

_ääääää_

_I love you_.

Her last words to him before he left.

She trails a hand down the glass of the window, a barrier keeping her from the outside, from _him_. The glass is cold to her touch, although it is a warm day, with the sun shining and a slight breeze. Flattening her hand against the glass, she leans towards it and lightly presses her lips to it. Drawing away, she can see the mark her breath has made on the glass, flawing its perfect sheen.

Like she herself is flawed.

Once thought of as perfect, a role-model for the entire Galaxy, she is now reduced to nothing. _Less than nothing_, she adds in her mind, her lips lifting up into a slight smirk; for she has no place anymore, no where to go, no one who cares.

Except him.

But he has been gone, gone so long that she wonders if he will ever return to her.

_To us_.

She does not think of them as separate beings anymore. They have become too close for that. Instead, they are one entity, one heart, one mind, one soul, bonded together in the sweetest of rituals. When he leaves, he takes a piece of her with him and leaves a piece of himself with her, keeping them forever joined.

Drawing on this hidden part, she brings it to the surface, needing to revel in its comfort and heat. She feels so cold, so _alone_, that she needs every comfort and particle of him that she can get. Yet as she reaches for it within her mind, the feelings and pictures that it brings forth are mutated and fading. _How can this be_, she wonders, as she concentrates on him even more. But the harder she thinks of him and their love, the more it fades. And soon, she knows, soon it will be gone.

_But why?_

Opening her eyes, her hand still touching the glass, she finds that the day has become darker. Clouds have filled the sky, the wind has grown heavy and there is a certain…_feel…_in the air, one that she cannot place. He could, she knows. He is so powerful in things like that, able to bend the Force to his will, yet she has none of his abilities. They are linked in everything but that.

_Yet with the child_…

_The child you no longer bear_, she reminds herself. Yes…that child that once connected them both even through the Force is gone now, to parts unknown. She does not know what has happened to it- she remembers nothing. Only that…something…happened and she then found herself in this place.

_This prison_, she wants to say, but the words don't go on past her lips. Such a beautiful place cannot be a prison. Resembling the Lake House, her Senatorial Apartment and even with some tones and influences of her own childhood home, it is beautiful. It is everything that she ever wanted in a home, mixed with touches of _him_. He is there- she can feel him as she sleeps, feel him as she wakes, she can feel him as she stares out of the window, waiting for him to come back to her.

Yet the doors are locked, the windows shut and she is left in her solitude. She knows not how long she has been here, waiting for him to come to her again. Waiting for him to appear on the horizon; waiting for him to embrace her as he used to; waiting for him to touch his lips to her; waiting for them to fully and completely become the one entity that they are, once again.

_Yet is that possible_, a darker voice inside her chides. _Can you truly become one again, after what has happened?_

What _has_ happened? She searches her mind for some reminder, some clue of what has been, but she receives none. Except his fading image…

_Come back to me_, she pleads, concentrating only on that one thought.

_Come back to me and hold me in your arms._

She turns her head towards the one door to the rooms in which she is held, wishing, _willing_ it to open, but it does not. It stands there as unyielding as ever, large and white, almost mocking her.

_Like a trooper_.

Trooper? This word is unknown to her, strange and foreign in her thoughts. Why would such a word come to her? Is it perhaps something beyond her memories? Something before the time she awoke to find herself here, in these painted and precious rooms, in her idyllic prison?

Shifting her blanket, she allows her legs to uncurl from the bench and touch the floor. With the crinkling of her dressing gown and nightgown, she stands wavering on her feet, holding an arm out to balance herself with the wall. Her legs are weak, so weak, as if she has not stood in hours…days…months…years…_centuries_. And perhaps she hasn't. She has no knowledge of time in this place. The days darken into night and lighten into day, but it has become a monotonous process that she barely notices anymore. She knows only that it has been long, very long, since she has moved from the bench by the window, where she sat to wave to him as he left her.

And even that memory has dulled in the passage of time.

Teetering on her feet, she reaches a foot out and tries to take a step. It has been so long since she has moved she believes she has forgotten how. _One foot in front of the other_, she reminds herself as she slowly makes her way from the bench and into the main area of the room. Her vision is wrought with blackness, she can barely stand. Yet she still takes those steps forward, as images of him appear unbidden in her mind, strengthening her resolve even more. She pushes on even as the images grow darker, mutilated, full of despair. She does not know what is propelling her, what forces her to walk, but she knows she must.

_Something is wrong_…

_Something is happening_…

_I need to find him…_

_I need to find him NOW!_

She fights to keep standing as she reaches the center of the room. She fights with all her might to keep his image before her eyes, even though she can feel it being jerked away. She fights for him, for her, for _them_ as her vision goes fully black and she topples to the ground.

And she prays with her last breath that things will somehow be better…

When she awakes…

_If_ she awakes…

_ääääää_

She stirs lightly as the sun touches her prone form, still lying in a crumbled heap. Yet it is not just the sun that wakes her, but a delicate touch on her neck, her back, her arms, her chest, her lips. Her eyes fly open, startled from her sleep as she feels his tender lips pressing against hers, a feeling she has not felt in such a long time…

His dark blue gaze bearing into hers as his lips slowly massage her own; she begins to lose herself in the feelings he invokes, before she suddenly pulls away, full of disbelief. _He is here_, her mind forms, yet she cannot comprehend that it is his lips that moved against her own, his eyes that look into hers and his hands that caress her body.

Smiling softly at her, he reaches out and pulls her against him, holding her tightly. "I love you," he says as he slowly strokes her back.

"_Anakin…"_ She breathes out, slowly beginning to face the reality that in some twist, he is here with her now, holding her against him, enveloping her in his warmth and comfort. This is what she has lacked during her stay here, what she has missed since before she can remember. His arms tighten around her as he pulls them both up into a standing position, cradling her against his chest, her head tucked into his shoulder.

"I love you so much, Padmé," he whispers softly into her ear and she shivers. It feels so good to be held by him again, drawing on his strength and presence. She wants to forget this time of isolation and continue her life, sheltered in his arms. Her own _Jedi Knight_…

_Jedi Knight_? She pulls away slightly and frowns. He also looks towards her worriedly, his brow furrowing. "Is there something wrong," he asks, slowly rubbing her back, trying to ease her tension. Jedi can't read minds, perhaps, but that doesn't mean they can't pick up on strong emotions.

_Jedi…_

"No-nothing," she says, swallowing. "I just think of these strange…words…sometimes." She tilts her head to look into his eyes, trying to reassure him by smiling. "It's nothing, Anakin. It's just been so long since you left."

He isn't placated. "What words, my love?"

She senses something _strange_ from him as he says this, but she ignores it. After all, what could it be? He is simply tired from his long journey. "Well…" She draws out, "I compared the door to a _trooper_, what ever that is." _Was that today_, she questions herself, _or has much time passed since then_? _Will I ever be allowed to leave here_?

He frowns, though she does not know if it is at her thoughts or statement. _But he can't read thoughts_, she reminds herself. Yet she could feel a slight touch in her mind that disappeared shortly after she felt it and it makes her wonder.

"Trooper…" he runs his tongue over the word trooper and she wants to lean into his protective embrace, as if even speaking the word will bring something unbidden and unwanted to them. "Are there any other words that you seem to remember, my love?"

"Yes," she answers him, wrapping her arms around him tighter. "Two more…they seem so foreign to me, yet also familiar- Jedi and Jedi Knight. Do you know what those are?"

Now she is positive that she has seen something flash in his eyes, turning them from their normal cerulean depths to a deathly yellow and back again. _What is going on_, she questions, but does not dare voice it. It does not really matter, she assures herself. _All that matters is that you're back in his arms_.

_But it _does_ matter_.

It will not leave her alone now, that she has seen the flash in his eyes, nor his…_anger…_ at the words. "Anakin," she speaks, "don't let those nonsense words worry you. They are nothing…"

_Yet are they_?

She tries to remember, but it has been so long. _Jedi…there was a Jedi Order and a Code and a Council. And they…_ she pauses in her thoughts, trying to recall pictures and memories from a time long gone. _They- they used the Force, like Anakin does_. And then, as her mind wraps itself around the notion, she bites back a gasp as it all comes tumbling back.

_Anakin was a Jedi Knight_.

"No I wasn't." His voice is strong, breaking her out of her thoughts. "The Jedi don't exist, Padmé." His voice is forceful. "They're just a story you made up in your time here." He holds her close to him, pressing her against his long, hard body allowing no space to come between them. "Don't worry, dearest. I'm here now and that's all that matters."

"You're here now…" She mumbles, suddenly feeling sleepy. And yet her mind won't let go of the Jedi. "But it still feels so real…"

"That's why it's good that they don't exist, darling. Because they had ways to twist your mind and thoughts and they meddled in the affairs that had no concern to them. It's a good thing that they no longer exist."

"So then they _did_ exist?" She pounces on his words, pulling back slightly, though his arms don't allow her to move away from him. She stares into his eyes.

Again the flash is there, yet this time it seems to stay longer and his grip on her tightens. "Once," he says, from behind clenched teeth, "_once_ the Jedi existed. But they were corrupted and they were killed for that."

"_Killed_?" She gasps. She doesn't like killing, though somehow she knows she has killed before, out of necessity. If only she could remember…

"Killed," he confirms, his eyes meeting hers. "But it is no worry now, angel. Those times are gone. The Jedi are all but extinct and you shall worry about them no longer." And with those comforting words, he leans down and lowers his lips once again to hers.

She meets his lips with her own, trying to gain comfort from them, yet still unsure of everything. _Anakin is back_, her heart tells her, _there is no reason to fear anymore_.

_Fear leads to anger and anger leads to hate…_

She stiffens, trying to remember, but he moves his arm away from her back and instead places it behind her head, restricting her movement and forcing her lips to stay connected to his. Slowly he traces her lips with his tongue and unconsciously she grants him access to her mouth. She loves him, loves him more than anything and it feels so good to be kissing him again, so intimately, like she has shared with no one else. Yet there is something at the back of her mind, something she can barely sense; something that tells her that all is not well.

She tries to pull back from his kiss, but his grip on the back of her head won't let her. She begins to panic, ignoring the passion that he is awaking in her, ignoring the sensual kiss with a promise of more. She can only think about the darkness that she realizes is in her mind, slowly growing and taking hold.

_Fire and lava and smoke and pain…lots of pain…_

She struggles, yet he presses harder, devouring her mouth with his own. Something is happening, she can sense it, but she does not know what. Finally his mouth leaves hers and she gasps for air, air that she has been unable to receive these last few moments in her panicked state. Conflicting emotions rise within her- it seems like an eternity has passed since they were last together and she cannot wait for their joining as one- yet the darkness grows in her mind.

_The Jedi have betrayed me, don't _you_ betray me…_

She struggles again, but it only causes him to tighten his grip on her. She will not deny that she feels desire as well, for his ministrations are awaking her senses in a way they have not been in a long time. Yet she fights to remain in control of her feelings.

_You're breaking my heart…_

What is going on? What are these _memories_ that keep appearing before her eyes? Are they really memories? She wants to say something, but becomes distracted as he lightly sucks on her pulse point, creating a wave of desire that flows through her. Unconsciously she leans into him, moving her arms to his shoulders, stroking his back, pressing herself against him. His encouragement helps put her into an unthinking state, where she is propelled only by her feelings and nothing more. There will be no more thoughts of darkness.

Or will there?

_Wait for me. I love you…_

Love washes over her and though she does not want to lose herself in his ministrations, she knows that there is no fighting them anymore. He is too strong for her and he does not seem to notice or acknowledge her hesitation, but only her body and his desire for it. Something has changed in him. Before, when he was with her, he would hate to be interrupted, but when _she_ asked him to stop, for whatever the reason, he would. He might not be _happy_ about it, but he would respect her wishes. Now, however…

But what can she do? He is so strong…and it does feel good the way his lips have left her neck and now move to her shoulder that peeks out from her nightgown, the nightgown that he himself has somehow pushed away, bearing that particular shoulder to his hungry gaze and mouth. She can feel his hands reaching up now, sliding the dressing gown from her shoulders, down her arms and letting it pool on the floor. She opens her mouth to protest against the lost of warmth- of _comfort_- for some reason, that nightgown meant _something_ to her, but before she can get a sound out, his lips have claimed hers once again.

_I love you, I love you, I love you…_

The words replay in her head, over and over again. She does not know if they are her own or simply words he has placed in her mind. She does not want to feel the feelings he manages to bring out in her, but she cannot help it. It is addicting- and does she even want it to stop?

_Lightning flashes as a body flies through the air…_

The vision brings her out of the passion induced state she is in and reminds her that things are not all right. This is not just her husband trying to make love with his wife. This is a man who has been gone for a very long time and is desperate for his wife's touch. This is a man who has been touched by some darkness that threatens to take control of him. This is a man who has died, risen and returned to her…different than he was before. This is a man, who has changed.

This _man_, who stands before her, she realizes with a shock, is no longer her husband.

_I don't even know who you are anymore…_

He senses it within her. She can feel the way his eyes bore into her as he slowly draws his lips, his hands, his body away from her. She may be completely undressed- wearing nothing, as usual, under the nightgown- but _he_ is still completely clothed, his flushed cheeks, his mussed hair the only signs that something had gone on between them.

If not for his thoughts.

His eyes bore into hers and it is as if all barriers between them are broken. She can feel his innermost thoughts and feelings, although she does not have the training to separate and analyze them. She can only watch as they play in his mind, clashing and bouncing off one another, a tangled mess that she has reduced him to.

_Everything I have done, I have done it for you_…

She can read it in his eyes. They have changed again, turning that inhuman color that she has learned to hate, although she has only seen it in flashes, and only since today. Yet it seems much longer…

"Padmé", his voice is deep- deeper than she knows it. "Tell me what you see."

"What- what I see? I-I don't know what you're talking about?" She forces out, trying to smile as she slowly tries to back away from him.

She does not get far. In one stride he crosses to her, grabbing her shoulders and holding her out in front of him. She wants to go limp in his arms, but does not dare face the consequences.

For there will be consequences…

"_Tell_ me, Padmé." His grip tightens. "I grow weary of your games."

His grip digs into her shoulders and she knows she will be bruised later. But she does not dare cry out, knowing that at the best, it will do nothing and at the worst, it will only serve to fuel his anger.

_Red descends on her vision, then blackness, then nothing…_

"I-" She swallows, bringing her eyes to meet his. "I see…red, lots of it and then it- it- it turns into black and there is nothing. There is lightening, and power. Fire…ash…then I see stars. Pain, _oh so much pain_…" She cannot fight the urge to go limp anymore, her strength fully leaving her body. She hangs like a doll, nothing more, in his strong and forceful grip, lacking the strength to even lift her head.

"Darkness…" She mumbles to the floor, her vision wavering, "So much darkness, a shadow that overwhelms you, me, _us_…tell me, Anakin, please tell me what troubles you…"

And suddenly it is all over. With a tenderness she can hardly comprehend that he could possess, he cradles her softly, tucking her head under his. The visions gone from her mind, receiving only calm, pleasant feelings full of love, she allows herself to relax in his embrace. This is the man she married, loving and comforting. This is the man who fathered her child, which was conceived in a loving dance, one that can be performed only by those who are deeply in love and inter-connected through that love. This is the man that softly picks her up and carries her to bed, lying her gently down upon it and slowly caressing her features.

And this is the man who contains a darkness so fierce within him, that it is only a matter of time before it lashes out again, from its cage within his mind.

_ääääääää_

She lies on the bed, only a thin blanket covering her body, but she does not feel cold. She watches with lowered lashes as he comes over to her and her vision blurs, taking in the details she has not seen in such a long time. An odd sensation forms in her mind, flowing throughout her entire body- as if she really isn't there, but only as an observer.

She feels out of place here, as if the sensations and feelings flowing within her cannot last. She is free at the moment- but how long will this freedom last?

_So this is how freedom dies…_

The words bring her back to reality. They awaken her mind again, the unbidden and _unwanted_ images appearing to her. And the darkness- it threatens to overcome her, a shadow that grows as she feeds her light to it, devouring the light of the love she and Anakin shared…the light of the one entity they have become again.

And she watches as the darkness begins to gather, to condense, to morph- into Anakin.

_Anakin is the darkness_.

_Anakin is the very thing that you have feared all along._

_Anakin is the darkness that has haunted your dreams at night._

_Anakin is the darkness that has ripped you away from all that you have ever known._

_Anakin…_

_Anakin…_

_ANAKIN!_

And with a scream, she jerks herself up from the wires and machines that have monitored her condition for the last two years, her eyes dark with worry as she fights to regain her breath, tears falling from her eyes as she tries to remember it all.

"Anakin…my Anakin…what has happened to you?"

And the small machine, which monitors every movement she makes, blinks as it sends a message.

_She has awoken…_


	2. Chapter 1: Sleeping Beauty

**Opps****! Sorry, guys, I realized I uploaded the wrong draft…I have four drafts of every chapter and instead of uploading the fourth (this one) I uploaded the third draft (pretty close, but not entirely perfect). Anyway, sorry about that! If you already read the other draft, then don't worry, there's hardly anything changed. At most a few words and stuff. If you haven't, then good! grins Anyway, here is the correct draft…**

Oh my goodness you guys, I am _so_ sorry…this isn't the main site I post at and so even though I'm on this site daily, I don't tend to think about my own fics here…bad Jennie, bad. Anyway, you will be pleased to know that I have up to chapter 3 written and I'm writing chapter 4 and I promise to never fall so behind again. At least only at this site- could happen that I simply can't write for a period of time or something, but in any case, this site will from now on receive the same treatment as the other sites.

**Agentjedi** Well, already replied to you… but thanks again for the review!

**LVB:** Thank you very much. I love your own work (though I'm a horrible reviewer- but I'll work on that, I promise!) and I'm thrilled that you like this. Yes, I had the novel at hand when I was doing the dialogue in that chapter…you'll also notice that bits of it is distorted…which was purposefully done…Padmé herself is a bit distorted, which you'll see as the fic goes on.

**Emma Laraliean**: Thank you!

**Queeny** Thank you, I was trying to be original. I'm glad I succeeded.

**Amylion**: Thank you very much!

**Kede**** Diem:** Thank you!

**GuardianofWinds** Thank you. And as to how I did this…I don't know? Actually, that was the third draft of the chapter…it finally just hit me how I wanted it to go and I went from there… But thank you very much for your praise!

**ChristyS** Here you go, the continuation.

**Doreen**: The continuation awaits.

**bine**You're in Hamburg? I used to live in Niedersachsen, by Oldenburg and Bremen. Now I live in Baden-Würrtemberg, between Heidelberg and Karlsruhe. And lucky you- I was planning on seeing ROTS on the 18th as well, in Mannheim, but then I ended up going to the US, so I couldn't. I ended up seeing it on the 20th in my friend's living room. Still have to get around to seeing it in theatres. And yes, the ending really was sad…I wish she had ended up living too. Oh well, at least I can still continue my fic where she _does_…

**Kristiana**: Per your request, the next chapter!

**VadersGurl**: Thank you!

**Blood Raven1:** Here's the next chapter. And thank you very much for your comments.

And because I forgot last chapter, here is the official disclaimer:

**Disclaimer:** All Star Wars characters belong to George Lucas, but the plot and any original characters that may appear (in this case Sairia and the rest of the staff) are mine. Please ask before taking, be it plot or characters. Thank you very much.

**Chapter 1: Sleeping Beauty **

It had, as expected, started out as a normal morning. Bail Organa, Senator to the Empire (and how it made his skin crawl to think of that) and Viceroy of the peaceful planet Alderaan, woke up, kissed his sleeping wife, got ready, had a cup of café as he read the Intergalactic Times and was debriefed by his chief Aide, before taking his morning stroll through the Palace Gardens. Bail had the same routine for every morning and rarely did he fail to follow it. He liked the consistency of it, especially with all that was happening in the Galaxy at the moment.

Palpatine had founded his Empire and things were not going well. The galaxy was forced into a state of oppression and people were put on trial and imprisoned for the smallest offenses. Every morning at his debriefing he was faced with the horrid details of the still young Empire and he liked, no, _needed_ a soothing walk through the Palace Gardens to settle his mind and remind himself that there were still beautiful and peaceful things left in the galaxy.

"Daddy, Daddy!"

Like his daughter Leia.

Leia truly had been a gift from the Force. At two years-old, she was a cute little girl, very bright for her age and she loved to talk. People chuckled and said that she'd take after her father in the Imperial Senate.

Bail hoped not.

He was one of the few people in the galaxy who knew the truth behind Lord Vader's identity, the fact that Darth Vader had once been Anakin Skywalker, the fabled Jedi Knight who apparently met his death in the Clone Wars. And he hoped more than anything that his little darling Leia would never grow up and resemble that man. For, no matter how much he loved Leia and doted over her, the fact remained that Leia Amidala Skywalker shared the same genes with Lord Vader.

But that was not something he could tell strangers. That was not even something he could tell his _friends_. After returning from Polis Massa, with an infant in his arms, he had met his wife as he embarked from the _Tantive__ IV_ and had handed her their new daughter, swearing her to silence immediately, not even daring to speak about Leia's parentage as they stood surrounded by loyal subjects on the docking platform…

_His wife awaited him at the landing pad, her regal robes blowing in the wind created by his ship. As soon as Antilles opened the hatch, she rushed into his arms- or at least that is until she noticed the young child he cradled in his arms._

_He would forever remember that look of adoration, as though she sensed the child's purpose. It had been a blow to them both when they realized they could not have children. One of their dreams had been to have a daughter, their own little princess to nurture and care for. And to have that dream whisked away from them- there had been nothing more devastating. Even sitting in the Senate earlier and listening to Chancellor- no, he corrected himself, _Emperor_ Palpatine hadn't been as devastating as learning that he and Breha would never have their own child. _

_And therefore they had begun talking about adoption. The child would receive the best of care- a princess of Alderaan, with all the privileges and advantages tied to the title and, most of all, she would be loved. He and Breha would love her as their own flesh and blood and no one would know the difference. Their child would be their legal child, in name and love and that is all that would be matter. Genetics weren't important._

_And it truly had been a gift of the Force when he was allowed to take in Leia. The two last Jedi knew that he would raise his dear friend's daughter to the best of his ability and he was ready to prove that fact._

_"You leave to attend a meeting of the Senate and come back with a child?" She laughed softly. "But what a glorious child she is…" He handed Leia to her new mother and Breha glanced down at her, smiling._

_"Her name is Leia," Bail began to walk to the Palace's main doors, Breha following him, cradling the little young one in her loving arms._

_"Leia…" Breha whispered the name. "Could that be _Naboo_ in origin? Don't tell me you traveled to Naboo as well." _

_"No…nothing like that." Bail felt intimately tired at the moment, the shock and wear of the last days finally resting on his shoulders. "It's- we better go inside, I shouldn't be talking of this out here."_

_And so the Royal Alderaanian couple entered the Palace for the first time as a family of three._

Before he could sink into his memories even more, a small being had thrown itself at his legs and was holding on tightly. Bail looked down in amusement at his darling daughter, who was looking up at him through her chocolate brown eyes in adoration.

"I love you," she said, burying her head into his knees.

It wasn't that Bail wasn't pleased to hear such a statement, for it _did_ warm his heart. But he also knew that Leia used that phrase when she wanted something or was trying to get of trouble. And when he spied Myría, Leia's nanny, running through the gardens, covered in mud, Bail had a fair idea of what could have provoked Leia's declaration of love.

Leaning down, he scooped her up in his arms, realizing too late that she herself was covered in mud. His eyes twinkling, though he had curled his lips into a frown, he held her out from him. "What did you do now, Leia? And why are you and Myría covered in mud?"

Leia's eyes widened and her mouth turned a pout. "I didn't _mean_ to," she said, "But I wanted to play."

"In the mud?" Bail asked, raising his brow. "And what did Myría have to say about this?"

Leia looked sheepish. "She didn't want me to."

With a roll of his eyes and a slight chuckle, Bail leaned down and set his daughter back on the ground as Myría came running up, her face flushed, her normal pristine appearance splattered with mud. "My lord, I am sorry, but her Highness-"

"It is nothing, Myría. I understand as well as anyone that Leia can be a bit mischievous." Straightening up, Bail regarded the young woman kindly. "Though I would be interested in knowing exactly how she got so _much_ mud on her…and on you."

Myría blushed. "She fell, my lord, and when I leaned over to pick her up, she held onto my legs and I tripped. My fault entirely, I-"

"Please, Myría," Bail held out a hand to stop her apologies, "There is no need. I am simply surprised to see you in such a state."

"Very well, my lord." Myría curtsied and then turned to her small mistress. "And _you, _my princess, are going to go inside and get cleaned up. It isn't proper for a little girl of your stature to be running outside, covered in mud."

Bail watched in amusement as Myría scooped up his daughter and carried her towards the entrance of the gardens. Myría was a kind and intelligent young woman who did her job of minding Leia very well. Born in the country, Myría had wanted a position in the city and had applied at the Palace mere days after Leia had been brought there herself. She was also one of the few people who knew that Leia was, in fact, adopted, though the identities of Leia's 'real' parents were still hidden from her. Bail and his wife trusted Myría greatly and were very happy with her service as Leia's nanny.

Smiling to himself over seeing Myría covered in mud, he continued his walk around the gardens. He had no real agenda during his walk- it was merely a time for him to be alone, to think and to _remember_. He remembered what the galaxy had once been like- what the Republic had been like, what it had once stood for. He hated raising a child in the Empire, but at least he could keep Leia as far away from Coruscant as possible.

_No_, he reminded himself, _not Coruscant. Imperial Center_. Even more 'loyal' citizens of the Empire had a hard time remembering the new name of Imperial Center, often resorting back to calling the capital of the Empire Coruscant. A name that had lasted for over a millennia was not easily changed in two years, though the Emperor did his best to force the old memories out of the minds of the peoples of the galaxy. And of course his _servant_ Vader was always there to help reinforce.

Bail felt his hand clench as he thought about the name of the man who had once loved his close friend and who had fathered her children. It had been a shock to learn that not only had Skywalker and Amidala been involved, but also that they had consummated their relationship and conceived two children. Twins…

One of which was his darling Leia.

Bail would sometimes wonder how young Luke was doing, in the care of his aunt and uncle on their homestead on Tatooine. He wondered if the Lars' loved the young boy as much as he and his wife loved Leia and he wondered if Luke was receiving the same privileges that were being doted on Leia.

He doubted this and it saddened him. No matter what the circumstances of the Lars' might be, a family of moisture farmers living out on a homestead in the desert world of Tatooine would not be able to provide the same care that Leia, as Princess of Alderaan, would receive. This did not mean that Luke was being neglected or any less loved. But the truth was that Leia had servants and would receive the best of everything- be it clothing, food, education or anything else. Luke, on the other hand, while still being in a loving environment, would not simply know the _comfort_ that Leia knew every day. And this in a way caused Bail some guilt.

But there was no other way. The twins must be separated and kept that way. Perhaps as adults they would someday be allowed to meet and their bond as twins as well as their bond in the Force would be nourished and grow. But in the meantime, it was too risky. The galaxy thought that Padmé Amidala was dead and only very few knew of her pregnancy at the time of her 'supposed' death. But the two people who were to be kept away at all costs- Vader and the Emperor- were also among the few. If even the slightest notion should enter their minds that perhaps the children had been saved, they would stop at nothing to track them down. Therefore Leia was passed off as the daughter of Viceroy and Imperial Senator Bail Organa and his wife, Queen Breha Organa, and Luke was sent to live with his father's step-family on a planet that the two remaining Jedi were sure that his wayward father would never return to.

_At least Leia is safe_, his mind tried to reassure him. _Vader and the Emperor would never think to look for her on Alderaan, where she has been right under their noses the entire time. She is safe and she will continue to be_.

Yes…she is safe.

But for how long?

Shaking his head, trying to clear his mind of his conflicting feelings, he plodded on down the path, trying to ignore his fears. Leia _was_ safe and that was all that mattered. Not what might happen in the future. Leia was safe for the _moment_.

He stopped in front of a stone bench and lowered himself onto it, sighing as he took in the fragranced blossoms surrounding him. Alderaan was a planet of peace and though it, along with any other planets in the galaxy, stood under the control of a Regional Governor, it was largely left alone. Bail watched his steps very carefully and played his Sabbac cards well. He was a patient man. He would wait until the time was right and then would he take action.

The Co-Chief of the Rebel Alliance would let nothing endanger his daughter or people, not when there was still breath left in his body.

* * *

He wasn't sure how long he ended up sitting there on that bench, but when he finally stood and left the hidden thicket of blossoms, he was immediately met by a young man, Erikín, who was one of the servants in the Palace. Frowning, Bail stopped before him as Erikín caught his breath.

"My lord, you must come immediately- I have been searching the entire gardens for you- you were nowhere to be found-" he panted, and Bail instantly became concerned. For Erikín to be in such a state was strange indeed- the servant was known for his composure in any circumstance and as Assistant Steward it was also rare that he left the inside of the Palace, usually sending errand boys to find the Viceroy for him.

"By the Force, Erikín, what is it?" Bail put his hand on his shoulder and leads him towards one of the outer benches placed sporadically in the garden, where he sat him down. "I have never seen you so riled."

"My lord," Erikín panted, "as I said, you are needed immediately by Sairía in the Palace."

Bail motioned for one of the other servants to bring him and Erikín refreshment and then turned back to the young man. "Sairía? What does she want me for? And why would she send _you_?"

Sairía was the head maid, the wife of Tekrín, the steward, and, along with her husband, presided over the Palace, making sure that the other servants did their jobs and everything ran smoothly. She was also a woman who did not take Erikín's position lightly and would not send him out like a common errand boy for no reason. Yet if the situation was bad enough to merit the assistant steward, Sairía would believe that it was bad enough to warrant her own person. Something had to be wrong, Bail decided. There was no other explanation.

"Sairía- she said she received a transmission just now. The- '_Le Dormiena'_ has awoken! '_Le Dormiena'_ sleeps no longer."

And Bail felt all his strength leave him.

_'Le Dormiena'_- The sleeper, in the ancient Alderaanian tongue, was the name Sairía had given his houseguest when she first arrived, those years ago…

_"My lord- what would you have me do with our…guest?" Bail looked up from his wife and new daughter and saw his brother-in-law standing just outside their sitting room. He had just finished telling Breha about her new daughter's parentage, something that Breha had silently accepted in her own way and now he was trying to deal with the news himself. He hadn't had the time before to really think what this meant for the rest of the galaxy…and now he found himself feeling a mix of emotions._

_"Our guest?"__ Breha looked up as well, her arms tightening around her new daughter. "What guest?"_

_"Breha, my lord," Captain Antilles cleared his throat, "I am referring to the Nubian Senator currently 'sleeping' in my ship- what should I do with her?"_

_"Senator Amidala is _alive_?" Breha stood up in a fluid motion and Bail had to admire his wife's inherent grace. "I thought you said she was dead," she said, addressing her husband now. "We can't possibly take in her daughter when the mother still lives. You said that she was lost to us, Bail. You said that-"_

_"I know what I said, Breha darling." He took a deep breath. "It is a complicated matter- I will explain to the best of my ability. But first we need to move her from the _Tantive_. She cannot stay there any longer."_

_He left the room in stride, noticing Sairía standing in the hall, reading a data pad. "Sairía, would you please come here a moment?" He called out, motioning her over._

_Sairía looked up from the pad and nodded, sticking it into her skirt pocket and curtsying to the Royal Family and Captain Antilles. "What can I do, my lord?"_

_"I would like to introduce you to my new daughter, Leia, first of all." Bail motioned towards the bundle of blankets his wife held and Sairía curtsied. "And then I need your assistance. I do believe you are familiar with the ancient secret rooms and passages within the Palace?" _

_Bail referred to the rooms and corridors that had not been used in years-centuries, even. They had been built within the Palace back when Alderaan was in a period of Civil War, to protect the Royal Family. After the Civil War had passed and Alderaan became a peaceful planet once more, swearing off weapons and the like, the passages were seldom used or even thought of anymore. Each Viceroy or Queen of Alderaan knew of their existence, but no one really knew where they exactly were anymore. Only the steward and stewardess knew exactly where they were and held the keys to open them. _

_"Of course I do, my lord. It is my duty to know where they lie, should the need for them arise again." Sairía looked confused and then troubled as she realized what it could mean. "Please do not tell me that you are in _danger_, my lord- that would be such a horrifying thought-"_

_"Nothing like that, Sairía.__ I have something that needs to be hidden and kept hidden for an undeterminable amount of time and those secret rooms would suit the purpose perfectly." Bail had already started to continue his journey to the docking pad._

_"I see, my lord. I will do whatever you require-." However, when examining Sairía's face, it was quite evident that she did not see- nor understand- at all._

_"Then come along." She nodded and raced to catch up._

_It wasn't until they were on the _Tantive_ itself that the two women fully comprehended what was happening and the desperate need for secrecy._

_A young woman, pale and very beautiful, was lying on a bed in the cabin, sleeping. Her hair fanned out around her face, her arms folded on her stomach, which still bore roundness from her pregnancy_, _dressed in a flowing gown- she resembled an Alderaanian folk tale of a sleeping princess who fell once into a deep sleep and never awoke._

_Breha's__ eyes began to tear as she clutched her new daughter to her chest, hardly able to bear seeing a friend and the mother of her new daughter in such a deathly state. But it was Sairía who spoke as she looked over the sleeping woman, saying the words that were on everyone's mind._

_"She is the 'Le Dormiena'"._

_'She is the sleeping princess_.'

_How true those words had been._

How true they were even now.

Yet something had now changed. Something had caused the impossible to happen.

Padmé had woken up.

* * *

The room is strange to her, yet familiar at the same time- a paradox she does not understand. Her eyes hurt and she closes them before opening them once more. The room has not changed. It is blurry; she cannot make things out very well. She sees shapes, looming at the walls, twisting and turning and morphing into different shapes. She sees muted colors, wavering lines; a secret shadow world all her own.

She feels weak, too weak to even lift a hand from her side. She feels cold, yet also hot, shivering and burning at the same time. She feels _alone_, as if there is nothing left for her now. Something…something has happened. Something happened to _Anakin_ and now she finds herself here.

_But what?_

She closes her eyes again, trying to call up his image from the depths of her mind, but she can't. She tries to remember- how she got here, what happened, _anything_- but she cannot. Her mind is blank. She sees without seeing, hears without hearing, speaks without speaking…

_Anakin_.

She reaches out her mind, trying to find his. But the connection that they once had- the connection that allowed them to feel another's presence, even when an entire galaxy separated them- is gone. She cannot feel the warmth of Anakin's mind anymore, just as she can no longer see him. Just as she can no longer see _anything_, her mind reminds her. Somehow her sight has been stolen from her. These hard, cruel shadows she sees are not real.

They _can't_ be real.

Otherwise…otherwise… she simply won't let them be real. They stand there, mocking her, as she yells at them to go away.

_Go away_, she commands.

_Leave me alone._

_Have I not been through enough? Must you also _mock_ me besides?_

_What have I been through?_ The thought suddenly appears in her mind. What _has_ she been through? For that matter, where is she?

_Who_ is she?

_A small little girl with brown hair splashes a girl a few years older than herself as they play near a stream._

_A girl, now old enough be attending school accepts a piece of paper from a smiling woman as people applause._

_An adolescent bows down in front of a crowd of people as she is welcomed._

_A teenager is crowned before a great hall of people, dressed in ceremonial dress._

_A girl enters a shop with other travelers and speaks to a young boy._

_A young woman speaks before a large group of people, animated with her speech as people begin to applaud._

_A woman and a boy- no, a _man_ stand before a lake, gripping hands as the sun sets._

_A man presents a woman with a golden droid, as a friend._

_A woman embraces a man as he presents her a braided lock of hair._

_A woman places a hand tenderly on her stomach, as she looks out into the sky._

_A woman and a man embrace as though they had been separated for an eternity, and then he puts his hand on her stomach._

_A man stands before a woman, a city in the background as they tenderly embrace._

_A man stands before a woman, with a mountain of fire behind them…_

And then she is falling.

Deeper.

Deeper.

Until her eyes fly open once again. Yet this time, instead of seeing the shapes that mock her, her vision has cleared- or at least to a certain extent.

She can now see the bed she lies in, the machines surrounding it. She can see the flowers in the vase on the table by the bed. She can see the bed now, the bed that she is levitating above. She can see the walls, painted pale lavender, with their white designs. She can see the cables and wires that connect her to the machines and the…force-field…that levitates her and she can see the door.

She sees the woman standing inside the door.

"My lady- you're awake."

The woman is dressed simply, like a servant. Her blonde hair is tied back with a kerchief and she holds a data pad and a ring of old-fashioned keys in her hand- keys that only the Ancients used, many a millennia before. Yet there is something kind about her as she moves closer to the bed and flips a switch on a machine. Padmé can feel herself being lowered onto the bed as the force-field dissipates around her.

"I-" No sound comes out. "I-I am awake?" She tries again, but can manage only a silent whisper.

The woman smiles at her and comes over to the bed, placing the keys in a pocket and the data pad on the table. "My name is Sairía. Do you know your name?"

She blinks, trying to remember. Her name…she had so many…one for each personality, someone had once said…someone important…_Anakin_…

"Anakin..."

The woman, _Sairía_, she tells herself, smiles at her again as she reaches over and flips another switch on a machine. "Anakin is your name?" She softly asks.

"N-no." Padmé fights to get the words out. It feels so strange to speak… The words won't come to her and when they do, she can not bring them forth from her mouth. "An-Ana-Anakin- I-I ne-need him." She tries to swallow but finds that she can't and her eyes grow wide in fear. What has happened? Why can she not speak anymore?

Sairía must sense this, for she slowly lays a hand on her forehead and slightly strokes it. "Shh… You must be calm, my lady. And you must not worry. Everything will be fine. You just have to wake up more."

"Wa-" She tries again.

"Wake up?" She nods and Sairía continues. "You have been asleep for a very long time. It was not known if you would ever awake again." Sairía continues her stroking with one hand, placing her other hand on Padmé's own. "You are in the Palace in Aldera, the capital city of Alderaan. You are in a secret room and only I and a few others know of your existence."

"W-" Padmé tries to speak again. "Why-"

"It wasn't safe for you anymore. I am a mere servant, my lady, but my lord, Viceroy Organa has had me keep watch over you."

"Bail?" She manages to say the entire word now in one try, though her voice still is only a whisper.

"Bail. Yes, my lady. Bail Organa. You remember?"

"Little." Padmé forces out. "Bail- friend-Senator. Work-worked with me."

"Very good, my lady." Sairia finally removed both her hands and smiled at Padmé. "I'm going to lift you into a sitting position now." She reached over and flicked another switch that was connected to the bed and then took gentle hold of Padmé's shoulders and lifted them up.

_He grips her shoulders tightly, fiercely, with power. _

_You'll hurt us…_

Padmé begins to shake and Sairia instantly lowers her back down again as she hurriedly presses a button on the wall by the bed and a droid springs to life.

She is shaking. She can feel herself shaking, though she cannot stop it- it is out of her control. Nothing seems to be under her control…

As she lies there, shaking, she can see a figure- a droid, her mind supplies- come over to her and take a hold of her shoulders as another droid comes and takes a hold of her ankles. She knows that they are holding her down, although she does not feel it. She can only feel the shaking- and the pain, the immense pain from his grip on her shoulders. Anakin is angry with her- he thinks she has found someone else- but how could she find another? Anakin means everything to her- they have become the same person in the course of their marriage, bonded together so deeply. They are one being, not two separate beings.

But Anakin isn't here. Anakin is gone. Where is Anakin? What has happened to Anakin?

Anakin?

_Anakin?_

_Anakin!_

"Anakin!"

* * *

Bail raced through the Palace to the secret room where his old and dear friend lies; finally free of the coma she had slipped into those years before.

And he could hear the screaming.

The screams spurring him on, he reached the door that was slightly open and dashed inside, his eyes taking in the sight. Padmé was deathly pale, dressed in a white nightgown, her long hair flying around her shoulders as she thrashes about, her eyes clenched shut as she screamed 'Anakin'.

"_Anakin!"_

_"Anakin!"_

_"ANAKIN!"_

Her screams started hoarse but have grown louder each time she begins anew. Two droids had been activated by Sairía, who was standing off to the side, watching the spectacle. The droids stood at her shoulder and her legs, holding them down as one of the tubes that connected Padmé to the machines beside her dropped a golden liquid into her chest.

Bail watched as he screams quieted and so did her shaking, before turning to Sairía. "What _happened_?"

"She is very confused, my lord. If possible, I believe that we should procure a doctor. She has woken from a very long coma that we doubted she would _ever_ awake from. She is beginning to remember details, but the machines read that her senses have not yet fully come back yet. Except for the seizures, she is also very weak and will not be able to move on her own. She needs help, my lord, and medical attention."

Bail sighed, his eyes on Padmé, who had finally settled down back into sleep, while the droids ran tests with the machines. "She is thought to be dead; Sairía and it must stay that way. I wish to help her, in any form possible, but I do not believe that a doctor can be called. Can the droids not care for her?"

"Well, yes, my lord. But she needs human contact as well. The droids can monitor her, surely, and stimulate her limbs and senses. They have done a well enough job already-if not for the fact that she is so pale, there would be no way to tell by looking at her that she has spent so long in a coma. But…" Sairía trailed off, turning to face her employer, "She cares only for this 'Anakin', my lord. I asked her name and she told me his. She asked about him, saying that she needed him. I do not know who he is-"

"He is her lover." Bail cut in, rubbing his temples. "Or _was_ her lover, I should say."

He couldn't bear to think about his poor friend, waking from near death, the only thing on her mind her fallen lover. He couldn't bear to think what would happen when she awoke again and when her senses and memories came back. He couldn't bear to see the woman who had been so strong in body and character, fighting for what she believed in with everything she had, lie so weak and so broken.

And he couldn't bear to see her destroyed again.

For Bail knew that the knowledge of what happened to her lover would destroy her-as it once had.

He hated thinking back to that fateful day, yet he felt his memory pulled there for the third time today.

_He had accompanied Yoda down the hall, to watch Obi-Wan plead with Padmé to keep on trying, to keep on _living_, a feat that was slowly becoming too much for her to bear. Obi-Wan shook his head at them both, signifying that the prognosis was _not_ good, before he had been shooed away himself by the medical droids the Polis Massans had constructed for their use._

_After giving Obi-Wan sufficient time to mourn, for it was obvious that he needed it- Bail and Yoda had met him in the hall. Obi-Wan held out the small carving that he had occasionally noticed around Padmé's neck. While Yoda and Obi-Wan were trying to think of the origin, Bail kept his silence. He had asked Padmé about it once, for it was not the normal necklace a Senator would wear- rather primitive in design, made out of cheap materials. She had replied that an old, close friend had given it to her and that it meant the galaxy to her. But she had said nothing else and since the two Jedi Masters had already decreed that it was important and that she should be buried with it, he kept his silence as well._

_They had moved to the _Tantive IV_ and had already discussed what they were going to do with her body and her children. The two remaining Jedi explained to him what had happened with Anakin and also Padmé's relationship with him. Or more Obi-Wan did the explaining. _

_"Anakin and she were very close, Senator.__ More than that- they both tried to hide it, but it was obvious to me that they loved one another and were having relations. Or, well," Obi-Wan had blushed at this point, letting forth a watery chuckle, "I wasn't sure about the level of intimacy- but I knew they were in love. And though it was against the Code, I- I ignored it. Perhaps I should have brought it to the attention of the Council, or confronted Anakin about it. But I felt no need to at the time…_

_"It wasn't until just before she and I left for Mustafar that I learned that she was pregnant. I had told her about Anakin-"_

_"I still am not entirely clear on what happened to Anakin, Master Kenobi," Bail interrupted. "I'm sorry, but you're saying that Palpatine's new protégé, Vader, is actually Anakin _Skywalker_? The Hero With No Fear?" He noticed how the both Jedi cringed when he used Anakin's unofficial title. "And that you ended up dueling with him and killing him?" He addressed Master Kenobi. "This is- it's simply unbelievable…"_

_"I know." Master Kenobi clenched his teeth. "I was _there_ and I can barely believe it. I watched my former Padawan, my friend, my _brother_ Force-choke the one woman he loved, the same woman who was pregnant with his _children,_ and then throw her to the side, before he attacked me. It is hard to understand, Senator. It may be _impossible_ to understand. But Anakin Skywalker died the moment he attacked his pregnant lover and Darth Vader died in a burst of flame not too much later."_

_"So you are sure that he is the father?" Bail asked once again. "And how did you find out?"_

_Kenobi sighed, shaking his head. "I confronted her about Anakin, asking if she had seen him. She denied it and told me that she wasn't going to help me kill him. After she said this, she became faint and I caught her. It was only then that I noticed that she was pregnant and when I asked if Anakin was the father, she did not answer and I took that as confirmation."_

_"I-" Bail cleared his throat. "I knew that she and Kni- Skywalker were friends and occasionally met to do things with one another, but I had no idea about the extent of their relationship. Though I _had_ noticed these past few months that Padmé had become distant and, well, _ill_. But I thought it was simply stress- the Force knows that it would have been understandable to become sick from it. I asked her a few times how she was feeling, but left it alone once she answered. Perhaps I should have-"_

_"No good, it would have been. Still deceived, Senator Amidala would have." Yoda interrupted, shaking his small head. "And now gone, is she, along with her lover." He paused before continuing. "To Naboo, send her body…" _

_The conversation continued as fates were decided and it was only after Bail excused himself to contact his wife that he was intercepted by a Polis Massan. He was unaware of the name- the two Jedi Masters had handled most of the negotiations, but he still stopped and greeted him._

_"Is there anything I can do for you?" He asked. Perhaps he wanted to say something about the twins or something. Or perhaps he wanted to wish them well on their way. The Polis Massans were a curious folk…_

_"The woman- she is not dead."_

_And the world dropped on him._

_"Ex-_Excuse_ me? __You say that the woman is alive? The woman _we_ brought, who bore two children?"_

_"Yes! She is only sleeping. Sleeping very deeply- almost dead, but not. __In a _coma_Not know when she awake, if ever. But she still is alive." The alien nodded his head as he spoke, energetic and convinced that Bail should follow him._

_"Wait- I must gather the others and then we will come." And he rushed off to find the two Jedi Masters._

_They gathered in the surgical theater where Padmé's body- _no_, he corrected himself, _Padmé_ lay, hooked up to many different machines and monitors. The Polis Massans were standing to the side, watching her chest rise and sink as a respirator regulated her breathing._

_"See! She is alive. She was only very, very tired after having children. Thought she was dead, but she wasn't. Slipped into coma, stopped breathing, but now breathing again. She live. She maybe only sleep, but she still _alive_."_

_The three humans regarded one another and the two Jedi stretched out with the Force._

_"Curious, this is," Master Yoda finally spoke. "Alive, the Senator is. One with the Force, she has not yet become."_

_"I sense it too, Master Yoda. I also sense that there is something keeping her there…keeping her tethered to her body, as it might be. But I cannot sense what it is." Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed. "I am not sure what would have been better- knowing that she had died, or knowing that she is alive, but will never wake."_

_"But-she _could_ wake, could she not?" Bail finally spoke. "She's in a coma- there's a chance that she might wake someday."_

_"Yes, small chance there is, Senator. But likely she will die it is, or that she never awakens."_

_"Yet she still lives- we cannot _kill_ her, not when she's like this!" Bail said, becoming angry at the two Jedi. Padmé was a dear friend and now that there was still the small chance of saving her, they wanted to kill her? He searched his mind for an answer, trying to come up with some solution._

_"I understand that it is doubtful that she will wake. Yet she still does live. I would be willing to take her to Alderaan with me, Masters, if that is permissible. I will keep her hidden there and care for her. Should she ever awaken, I will also care for her future needs. But even if she doesn't- and I myself do not expect her to- I cannot just allow you to let her die like this. Let me take her to Alderaan. She will be safe there."_

_Eyeing one another, the two Jedi reached out in the Force and even Bail could feel it. Finally Yoda spoke. "Very well. Take the Senator to Alderaan, you will."_

_Bail nodded, bowing to them. "Let me contact Captain Antilles and we will move her to the _Tantive_ ."_

Bail had played in his mind with the scenario of Padmé finally waking, but he knew that deep down, there was no hope. But he still cared for her and charged Sairía with her care. And even in the scenarios in his mind, he had never thought that the first thing out of Padmé's mouth would be Anakin's name. Truthfully, he had rather hoped that she would forget his existence entirely- it would be so much easier on her that way.

Yet the Force seemed to have other ideas.

And as he saw the condition she was in, so frightened and weak and unable to remember anything but Anakin, he wondered if his decision in Polis Massa had been wise. Perhaps it would have been better for her to die there than to awake now in a galaxy torn, a fallen Republic, a new Empire- with her lover in the middle of it all.

Perhaps death would have been better.

Sairía brought him out of his thoughts. "Her lover?" She questioned, frowning at the woman lying there.

Bail sighed once again. "Yes- for what else could he be? She loved him and he loved her- at least to a certain extent. We know that they were intimate with one another- Leia is proof of that," for Sairía was one other person who knew of Leia's relation to Padmé, "but there is no other explanation. They could not have been married."

"Perhaps they were married in secret." Sairía mused softly, as she slowly stepped over to the bed. "If they hid their love for so long, a marriage would have been no different." She softly stroked Padmé's hand, which was now lying at her side. "But it does not matter. All that matters is that she wants this 'Anakin' and he is apparently…gone."

"Gone is one way to put it, yes." Bail followed her over to the bed. "In any case, it is impossible for him to come to her and I fear what will happen when I have to tell her that."

"Then don't- at least not at first." Sairía turned to him, her eyes boring into his. "She does not need this, my lord. She needs a doctor. I understand that she is thought dead by the rest of the galaxy and that you wish to keep it that way. But she needs _help_."

Bail nodded, turning back to Padmé. "I know, Sairía. But it is too dangerous to bring a doctor here."

"Then find someone _else_ then! But she needs _someone._ Droids cannot do it all and I do not know enough about medicine to properly care for her. You need someone who has an idea of medicine, my lord. Someone who has a chance of healing her- not only her body, but also her mind and spirit."

And then it came to Bail. He knew now what to do and who to call. He turned abruptly on his heel and strode out of the room, ignoring Sairía's calls for him to come back.

He had to make a call.

To Obi-Wan Kenobi.


	3. Chapter 2: Broken Family

Thank you to all my reviewers! Sorry for taking so long to post this, I've been very busy lately.

**eridani** _I didn't really like the final 2 lines of chapter 2- you've fallen back on an old cliche. Oh, and it seems that you've forgotten to delete a comment from your Beta, about half way through chapter 2. _

Thanks for the heads-up- I fixed the comments. I ended up posting the wrong edition- but fixed that soon after I read your review. And I do believe I have already sent you the higher-rated chapter. As for the ending, I understand what you mean. I have to admit, that probably wasn't the best chapter ending of my life and I thank you for your honesty in regards towards it.

**Kristiana** _This is SO WONDERFUL! I do have one sma--actually large request(feel free to ignore it;your story)...please don't make Anakin/Vader be in that horrid suit! I realize Obi-Wan said Vader was killed in a burst of flames...but you could tweak the story couldn't you? Again, do what you want._

Well, wait and see. Actually, this chapter should answer your request/question of Anakin's condition… with a bit more explained in the next chapter.

**websurfer**: _hey, this is pretty good but you left what I assume are you're beta's comments in so you might want to go back and fix that.I_

Thanks for pointing that out- I've fixed it. It was quite an embarrassing mistake to make, posting the wrong version of the chapter.

**Fantaszm****-Fairy:** _I dont care if vader is in the suit. as long as hes still pretty underneath._

Thank you very much. And heh, you will see in this chapter…

**Crystal Cat-chan:** _The idiots should just bring Leia to see her mother, as confused as that might make her, Padme needs her daughter._

Oh, you shall see. Just wait for a few chapters…

I'd like to thank all the rest of my reviewers and I hope you join me for this chapter, as well as the next ones, because this fic is _long_ from being done! And now, I present to you:

**Chapter 2: Broken Family**

With a crash, a glass hits the wall, splintering into tiny crystal shards. The liquid in the glass slowly runs down the wall, leaving a dark red trail- the same color as blood. He feels a certain satisfaction as the Commander cringes away from him, his eyes wide.

_Fear…_

He lives on fear, drinking it like water, the one substance that keeps him nourished. And the fear of this commander will feed him for days… It rolls off of him in a palatable cloud, seeking the void in the room, the void he himself is. He draws the fear to him, tasting it, letting it wrap itself around him, covering his every inch. Perhaps because the commander has fed him so well, he will let him live. It is not so often that he receives such a strong dose of what he needs to survive, to keep his systems in working order, to give him the will to _live_…

Though he doubts he truly does live. To live is to be full of life, a wish to continue on this plane of existence, a desire to make the most of what is sent your way. And he has none of these desires. Instead he is the void, the absence of everything, the presence of nothingness. His eyes, considered by many to be the window to the soul, are lifeless, dead. They fix on objects without really seeing, without really knowing. His eyes are dead- and so is his soul.

He is the very darkness that he wraps around himself, the very fear that radiates off of him. He reigns in his darkness, calling the invisible vapors of fear in the air towards him as he turns to face the commander- the weak, pitiful commander, who trembles at the sight of him. With a smirk, he decides the fate of the commander, as he reaches with one hand towards his hood he always wears, keeping his features hidden to the world.

The Wraith, the Shadow, the Darkness, the Evil, the Betrayer… He is the Dark Lord and few alive have seen his true features. An imposing figure in black, he always wears an over-robe with the hood drawn low, keeping his face in the shadows. Those who are lucky- or _unlucky_ enough to see some of his features tell tales of bloodless yellow eyes, a slight curl of darkened hair and a scar over his right eye.

And those who see more live no longer.

The Dark Lord only reveals his true face to those who are to imminently meet Death. He gives them the honor of finally knowing their murderer, one last favor to them before they become one with the Force. Not one being in the galaxy can say that the Dark Lord is not honorable. He does not kill anonymously, but with calculated pleasure as he draws back his hood and sneers, reaching out a hand, fingers splayed.

And then he listens to the sound of the dying's screams. It is music to his ears, as the victim spasms on the floor, blue Force lightning wreaking havoc on his systems. The screams heighten as the Dark Lord intensifies the strength of the lightning and then taper off as the last particle of life leaves the shell of what once was a commander of the Imperial Navy.

He lowers his outstretched hand and steps over the body, drawing up his hood once more. He ignores the shards of glass on the floor as well, the wine that still drips, pooling in the middle of the splinters. With an annoyed wave of his hand, the door to the chamber opens and he steps out, motioning to two troopers to remove the body and clean up the wine.

He stalks down the corridor, his footfalls echoing as he moves towards the bridge. For one, someone will have to be promoted into the dead commander's position. And, what he dreads, he must tell the Admiral as well. They are to set course towards the Imperial Center immediately.

His 'Master' is calling him.

Calling him like a nerf on a leash. His fists clench with the thought. He is no toy or idle slave to be ordered around. He is the Dark Lord, the Wraith, the Shadow, the Emperor's right hand. And yet he is still ordered to drop everything and hurry as fast as he can to his master's feet.

It is probably just some visiting dignitary, a weak and utter fool of a politician, holding a ball in the Emperor's honor to gain prestige. A ridiculous and useless affair where other politicians, dignitaries and high-up government officials all flock to, to promote themselves and to better their _own_ positions. And yet the Emperor enjoys such nonsensical events and forces him to attend as well.

But then it does not surprise him. Palpatine is a politician, as well as being a Sith Master. And politicians enjoy, no, _crave_ such retched, pointless displays. Palpatine attends the parties and balls with much fervor, playing his intricate little games. He will praise one Senator one day only to have them arrested for treason the next.

It curdles his blood.

It is not the imprisonment that bothers him. If he had things his way, he would throw _all_ politicians into detention centers. The galaxy would be much better off without the lot of them. No, it is the fact that his master expects him to join in as well. Like a parent and a small child, Sidious calls and expects him to come running, expecting him to attend the complete wastes of time his master, for some unknown reason, considers amusing.

It is times like this when he contemplates taking over the Empire himself. He has no more need for his master. The secrets that his master once promised him are useless to him now. The glory he had once craved, the recognition, the _power_- he holds them all in his mechanical fist. Palpatine, Sidious, the Emperor- the being under the names has no purpose anymore in his plans.

Not that he wasn't from the very beginning planning, scheming, watching to make his move and take over. Yet something once held him back. Something once allowed him to make no move against his Master, his Emperor, his friend, his enemy. Something soft…sweet…full of life.

Something that was now gone from his life, never to return.

He doesn't need her anymore.

He refuses to let his thoughts stray.

There is no reason to even _think_ of her anymore. She is dead, by his own hand. His lips curl into a snarl. The traitor _deserved_ what she got.

He will not think of it anymore.

He will _not_.

So why do his thoughts continue to stray?

Why can he not shove her into the locked chamber of his mind that holds the memories of his past?

He is the Darkness. He is Power at its source. The galaxy cowers when they hear his name or see his approaching shadow. He is Death, Eternity, the Void.

And yet such a pitiful little toy of a woman can bring him to his knees.

Or _could_. She is dead, after all. Yet still, the very _memory_ of her taunts him, taking over his thoughts, torturing his very essence, his soul.

What a wonderful way to learn that he has a soul- to learn of it as _she_ rips it to pieces along with his heart.

"_NO!_" he roars, letting the power flow through him, sending off shockwaves that make the ship tremble and throw the crew to their knees. He _will_ control himself. He _will_ not let her take a hold of him, toying with his mind. He is Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith and nothing will stop him.

Nothing.

* * *

"I have sensed a disturbance in the Force, my young apprentice."

He keeps his mind blank, pulling up his normal shadows to hide his true thoughts. Revealing them to his master would not be wise. Palpatine was not forgiving of traitors and he would not act any differently towards his own, traitorous apprentice, if he knew the thoughts he entertained.

_If he knew._

Which he does not. Lord Vader has had years to practice. The shadows that surround his body also surround his mind. Should his master probe his mind, he will only receive echoes of darkness. And Palpatine does this, quite frequently- another occurrence that causes him to allow those thoughts of treason to play through his mind. There is no trust between a Sith Master and a Sith Apprentice and he expects none. He is well aware of the age-old paradigm of the Sith. Yet it incites him that Sidious think so little of him. _No_ one holds as much power as he does. Conceived by the Force itself, he is a fountain of power. And Sidious dare to force his way into his mind?

He controls his thoughts as he kneels before the holo of his master. "The disturbance was me, my master. A commander…disappointed me."

"Ah…" Sidious's eyes light up. "Very well, my friend. Your anger is powerful."

"Yes, my master." He keeps his head low, his tone even and respectful, yet on the inside he is screaming.

"I have a mission for you, once you reach Coruscant." Sidious continues, but instantly shifts into Palpatine as a Royal Guard appears next to him. There is no _visual_ difference between Palpatine and Sidious, but a difference in power. Emperor Palpatine was betrayed by the Jedi and therefore has outlawed the use of the fabled mystical power called the Force. Emperor Palpatine barely tolerates his right-hand's usage of the ancient ways, scoffing about them in front of whoever is listening.

Sidious is the Master of the Darkside, the Sith Master, who wraps the Force around him, reveling in its darkness. Sidious keeps his identity hidden, revealing himself only in the presence of his apprentice.

The guard leaves shortly after handing something to his master and Palpatine continues. "Lord Vader, return to Coruscant immediately and we will discuss your new mission."

"Very well, my Master." And with a bow of his head, he switches off the holo, watching the image dissipate into nothing. He rises in a fluid movement, his eyes still trained on the console where his master had stood.

A figure approaches and he senses the presence of Admiral Reichen, a competent and ambitious admiral, who strives to run the Executor with precision and grandeur. As Lord Vader's personal flagship, she is in pristine condition, with a crew hand-picked by Lord Vader himself and carefully manned by him as well. Reichen could also be trusted, a trait Lord Vader prizes him for. One of the few officials who has seen his true face, Reichen is also one of the even fewer who knows Vader's former identity, having served with and under him in the Clone Wars. And although the identity of the Dark Lord is sought-out knowledge by all the holo-news reporters, he knows that Reichen would never betray him.

Reichen values his own life.

"Admiral," he speaks, his back still turned to the admiral, who stands at attention behind him.

"Yes, my Lord?" Inwardly, he smirks. Reichen really is a competent admiral, his voice unwavering as he addresses the same Sith Lord who had only moments earlier almost destroyed an entire corridor with a simple scream. Not many men can do that.

Turning to face the admiral, he meets his eyes. Still, Reichen restrains from flinching under his cold, dead gaze. "Set course for the Imperial Capital. The Emperor wishes us to return."

With a salute, his eyes still focused on Lord Vader's, Reichen acknowledges the request. "Straight away, my Lord." He means to turn away, but is stopped.

"I'm not finished, Admiral." His voice cuts through the air and immediately halts the admiral's movement. He smirks on the inside, refusing to allow his slight amusement show on his cold features. Trusted or not, he does not allow _anyone_ to see any form of emotions in his features, unless you count the coldness of his eyes and his perpetual frown. It is good to see that Reichen has been shaken by his interruption.

"I am retiring to my quarters and do not wish to be disturbed until we arrive."

Reichen salutes again, nodding. "Is that all, my Lord?"

"Yes." He watches as Reichen about-faces and does not stop the man from leaving this time, watching the admiral walk in a steady, yet quick pace, off to tell his men to prepare for their journey.

He waits until the admiral is gone before pulling up his hood and leaving the office, punching in the lock codes for the door. As the Commander-In-Chief of the Imperial Navy, he has special offices in each Star Destroyer of the entire fleet, as well as personal chambers on the Executor, also equipped with an office. This office is close to the bridge, where he meets with the various officers. _No_ one ever enters his personal office in his chambers.

He stalks down the corridor, his mind turned to the conversation he had had with the Emperor. Dignitary Rimbanu of the Cullensi System has journeyed to Coruscant to negotiate terms for his system's entrance into the Empire. And this of course means that Lord Vader's presence will be required at the mindless festivities.

He'd rather fall into a river of lava.

_Politicians_. He glares as he tramps down the corridor, two technicians seeing his approach and quickly springing out of his way. One of the few reasons he had not yet bothered to over-throw Palpatine. As Emperor of the galaxy, he would be faced daily with the sniveling races, forced to listen to their mindless blabber, attending their meaningless functions, and in general wasting his time.

He is a warrior, a master strategist in battle, the best pilot in the galaxy. He goes to foreign worlds and conquers them, fights in battles, hunts Jedi and the Rebellion. His place is not in a Throne Room. His place is out, amidst the stars. Once, he had entertained the idea of ruling the galaxy. Once, he had thought to let Palpatine build his hated Empire and then throw him down. Once he had thought many things, but they didn't matter now.

His dreams were dead.

He is dead.

For even stars die.

Just as his own had.

_By his own hand._

He doesn't even take notice of the crew members, who pass him as he walks by, nor does he acknowledge the sniveling commander he choked on instinct, not even thinking of it as he attempted to speak to him. He just continues moving, lost in his thoughts.

_Padmé…_

He had done it all for her. He had opened his heart and soul to her, offering her everything she could ever want- and she betrayed him.

Betrayed him with his _Master_.

She had taken everything from him and then left him laying lifeless before her feet. She had died- damn it to the nine hells, leaving him. She had promised that she would never leave him and she had, curse her memory. She deserted him when he needed her the most.

It was all _her_ fault.

Everything was her fault.

Flames flicker in his eyes as he clenches his metal fist, tightening it around a phantom throat.

_Her_ phantom throat.

She had caused him to wrap the Force around her windpipe, crushing it with all the dark power he possessed. She had caused it all- had ruined it all. She had forced him to kill her, her final act of betrayal.

_His Queen…_

From the moment he had bowed down before his Master, accepting his new identity and destroying the 'good and caring' man who was Anakin Skywalker for eternity, he had made his plans. He would learn the secrets of life and death from Sidious. He would destroy the Jedi, be the ever-minding apprentice and watch as Palpatine destroyed the very Empire he had created, as he became the most-hated man in the galaxy. Politicians- most of them, at least- were fickle. They would cry for an Empire one moment and then curse it the next. He would not have to wait long for the galaxy to decide the Palpatine was a corrupt tyrant.

Palpatine would become the most hated man in the galaxy.

And then he would step in.

He and his wife, a politician in her own right, but someone who actually _cared_ for the state of things, would appear as saviors. Padmé would make a wonderful Queen of the galaxy and with him by her side; they would make sure that there was peace and order in the galaxy. They would rule together and their child would be their heir, trained in the ways of the Force by its father and trained in the ways of the people by its mother.

The same child that died with its mother.

Also by his own hand.

The child they had created, his seed, her womb, half of each of them. The child they had conceived through their love, so pure and innocent.

The same love that had become corrupted and tainted.

The same love that had allowed her to betray him.

He has reached his chambers now and, with a glare, he opens them through the Force. His mind is still on his former love, the woman he had given up everything for, the woman he had done everything for.

He had offered her an Empire and she had spit in his face.

_Traitorous Hutt spawned wench_.

It was all her fault. Hers and that fool Kenobi's. That fool had played with _his_ wife. And she had _let_ him. She had brought Kenobi to him. She had betrayed him with her last breath. She had returned to him and he had held her in his arms and everything was going as planned and soon there would be no more worries. Soon they would have everything that they deserved.

And then she had ripped out his heart from his chest and had thrown it into the rivers of lava of Mustafar.

Had she had other motivations, bringing Kenobi to him as a gift, a way to apologize for doubting him, he would have accepted it with pleasure, allowing her to ascend the godly pillar she belonged on in his heart.

Yet instead her gift was full of betrayal and deceit.

So he had killed her.

He stalks over to the bedroom, throwing off his robe. He has no plans for sleep- he rarely sleeps as it is. He'll meditate, calling waves of darkness to him, or he'll simply pace, wearing away his thoughts with each step. He'll stare unmoving at the stars for hours. But he will never willingly sleep.

He is not in control when he sleeps.

Memories assault him when he sleeps, twisting through the shields in his mind, bringing images into play he wishes never to think of again. Even things he _should_ revel in, like the memory of his first use of the Darkside, he pushes away, not daring to allow them to take him over. Even the darkest of his memories are linked to her.

And she is a weakness he will not accept.

His chambers are elegant, yet simple. A large bed covered in black silk stands in the center of the room, with a nightstand on one side. A door opens to a refresher. Another door opens to something akin to a closet, where he stores his meager possessions. He does not have many material objects, although he has more than enough money to pay for them. He wears the simple set of tunics, surcoat, military issue trousers and utility belt he has always worn, the dark color mirroring the space outside. He has no trinkets or any other frivolities in his bed chamber. The walls are a dull sheen of the metal they are made of, efficient but plain.

Efficient but plain. The mantra of his entire chambers fits this. There are no comforts in his chambers- he needs none. He keeps his chamber sparsely furnished and decorated. No artwork graces the walls, no reminders of his extending wealth. He had no need for material possessions. There is not even a mirror in his refresher.

It is too painful for him to look into a mirror.

Some might call him handsome. His features have altered only little in the time since he has begun hiding his face from the public. He still has the high cheek bones, the regal looking nose, curt mouth. His curly dark hair, bleached from radiation to gold, unruly strands lightly touching the back of his tunic has only changed in the fact that he cuts it occasionally. He still bears the scar, as testimony of his duel with Assaj Ventress, cutting over his right eye. He has added another scar to the left side of his face, a scrape that never healed correctly, as testimony of his duel with Kenobi. Truly, the only thing that has changed is his eyes, from their previous deep cobalt blue to the dead yellow they now display.

And it is none of these factors that cause him to shun away from his appearance.

It is his own mind.

His features are the ever-lasting memory of who he once was, and what he had lost. For all intent and purposes, Anakin Skywalker was dead, long dead. And yet his reflection greeted him every time he looked and saw himself. Even when he looked into a mirror, he no longer saw the yellow eyes of the Sith, changed by his anger and despair and welcoming of the Darkside, but the same blue orbs his wife had always said matched the lake on Naboo on a beautiful summer's day.

He could not bear to look upon the man who had been weak, chained to a woman who crushed his heart with a simple thought. And so he refused to have a mirror in any of his quarters or apartments scattered through out the galaxy, refusing to acknowledge the man he had been once.

Anakin Skywalker was dead. There was to be no more thinking of those long dead and gone.

Kenobi had made sure of that.

He lowers himself onto the bed, sitting on the side, his eyes unseeing.

Kenobi…

His former Master, his former _friend_- back when he cared for such things.

A traitor, just like his wife.

He had offered him a chance to flee. But no, Kenobi had to go and be _noble_ and betray him. He remembers that night in great detail. He remembers the smell of sulfur in the air and the way the flames licked at their boots as they dueled. He remembers the way they each pushed themselves to the limit of their abilities. He had always been stronger. But Kenobi had experience and therefore they were equally matched.

Until he had made a mistake.

_A fatal mistake._

Even now, two years later, he still hates Kenobi, hates _himself_ for that encounter.

It does not matter who began the duel, or how it progressed. It only matters how it _ended_.

_Kenobi has tricked him, that fool. Kenobi has left him floating on that damnable droid in the river of molten lava, having sprung to safety himself. And then Kenobi has the gall to_ lecture _him_. Him! _Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, and Kenobi tries to lecture him and demand his surrender?_

_Has Kenobi gone_ mad?

_With a snarl, he leaps off of the droid, using the Force to propel him through the air. And fate almost stops as Kenobi's lightsaber comes very close to slicing through his legs. But he has seen through the trick, parrying the saber with his own and as he lands on the cliff, he makes a swipe of his own- at Kenobi's head. _

And the duel continues. Kenobi blocks the swing, striking out at his torso. He parries and blocks and they move towards higher ground, as the planet begins to tremble. Perhaps it is the energies of the Force that causes the planet to quake, causing the cliffs to tremble, fire to rain down upon their heads. Neither of them takes the time to contemplate it- it does not matter. All that matters is them, their duel.

Light against Dark, Master against Apprentice, Father against Son. The outcome of this duel will dictate the future. There will only be one victor, as former friends who have become bitter enemies battle it out to the very end- death. It is clear to both of them that only one must walk away from this duel and both of them are giving their best to insure that they will not fall, but triumph- whether it be Good over Evil or Evil over Good.

The planet begins to shake even more now, but neither of them thinks of that. They are concentrated only on parrying each other's blows, struggling back and forth on the uneven cliffs as it rains ashes on them and the planet shakes.

He swings out with his fist, Kenobi blocking it and swinging his lightsaber at his own torso. He leans back and flips, coming at Kenobi with a two-handed hold, chopping down and Kenobi ducks, pivoting on his foot and striking out at him once again.

Surely Kenobi realizes that he will not win. With the Darkside at his command, how could Kenobi even dream to conquer him? He is the Hero With No Fear. He has saved worlds single-handedly. He is the Chosen One, bringing Balance to the Force by destroying the treason-filled Jedi Order, with their outdated principles and back-stabbing ways.

With a roar, he charges at Kenobi again. He will _finish this duel and come out the victor. He feels nothing for Kenobi now. He gave Kenobi a chance to turn away and disappear and Kenobi refused. _

So be it.

He will not hold back. And, as his blade crosses Kenobi's, he lets a sneer show on his face.

Kenobi will not come out of this alive.

Through the exchange, the two of them either do not realize that they have moved upwards to a high cliff or they simply do not acknowledge it. They both attack with intensity as the ground rumbles beneath them and rocks crumble, falling into the lava river the cliff overlooks. It is dangerous- very dangerous and only the best of fighters could manage to not only keep their balance, but also their rhythm.

They are _two of the best. _

The match of power versus experience draws on, becoming only more evident and as they continue their fight, neither receiving the upper-hand. At the moment, if it continues as it has, the duel will stay a stalemate, neither participant winning or losing, unless some outside factor enters in.

Like an earthquake.

The planet has been shaking for awhile now and the two warriors have easily ignored it. Such little tremors were not worthy enough of the attention of two men locked in a battle of life and death.

But now it is time to take those factors into consideration. It is only when he feels the ground underneath his feet crumble that he realizes not only is the planet convulsing, but also that the very ground they stand on is giving away.

He will not let it distract him.

With a shove of the Force, he sends Kenobi back. Kenobi counters the shove with his own, and, high above the lava, they continue to duel as he swipes at Kenobi's arm. Kenobi raises his arm out of the way and kicks out at his head. He leans backwards, to miss the blow-

And that is his fatal mistake.

He is already leaning backwards to avoid Kenobi's kick, but he does not expect Kenobi to lash out at him with his lightsaber at the same time. If it were normal conditions, he would have fallen on his back and perhaps he could have still managed to keep duelling. But these are not normal conditions. The very ground he stands on chooses that _particular moment to tremble and quake and crumble from beneath his feet. _

He falls.

It is only through the Force he has gripped in panic that he manages to grab part of the cliff, saving him from tumbling down into a molten river. His legs and left arm scramble for a hold, for he can feel his mechanical grip crushing the rock that keeps him from falling. He claws at the cliff, attempting to gain another hold. He barely recognizes Kenobi reaching down to pick up his saber, twirling the handle in his hand, comparing it with his own.

In a moment of complete and utter weakness, he does the only thing left for him to do.

He calls for his Master.

"Obi-Wan…?" The fumes are beginning to choke him as he dangles high above the lava. He can feel the earth giving away underneath his powerful grip. He knows that he is about to fall and as he casts his mind and will out for the Force, for once it does not answer his call.

Obi-Wan is his last hope. But as Obi-Wan looks up from the two sabres he holds in his hand, down upon him, his former apprentice- he can already read it in his eyes. There will be no help from Obi-Wan.

"You were the Chosen One! It was said you would destroy the Sith, not join them." Obi-Wan continues in his angry tirade, but he cannot hear it. His mind is still on Obi-Wan's first words.

You were the Chosen One.

You were _the Chosen One. _

And the ground finally gives way under his grasp, sending him plunging down along with the boulders and rocks the quakes have set free from their places, sending them all down into a river of death.

"I hate _you," he screams, as he falls. _

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

You were the Chosen One.

Darkness.

"My lord? My lord? We have reached Imperial Center. My lord?"

He reaches out and closes his fist, effectively choking the officer without thinking. It has become such an automated response, almost second-nature.

His lifeless eyes come to rest on the commander who claws at his throat futile, for it is the Force that chokes him. The Commander coughs, trying to gain even a breath of air as his throat constricts.

"You- You-You were dreaming-my-" And he is dead before he can finish with _Lord_. With contempt, Lord Vader glares at the body on the floor of his bed chamber, before rising to leave.

"Sith Lords do not dream."

* * *

_You were the Chosen One_.

He had to lean back against the wall of a building before he could go on, holding his head in his hands. What would possess him to remember that now? What would cause him to think of that fateful decision he had made?

Reassuring the two Alderaanian women who had stopped to inquire about his health, after he almost collapsed against the building, he stood and sent them on their way. He did not need another distraction at the moment.

It had been surprising enough when Bail Organa had contacted him over their special com units, specially programmed to each others. And the news Organa had brought was even more surprising.

Padmé was awake.

Although he did not wish to see the young woman, the wife of his former apprentice, die, he was torn at what her actually _living_ meant. Stuck in a deep slumber, where there was little hope that she would ever awaken, she had been safe from her husband. There had also been little worry of how she would take the news of her husband's turning or his subsequent hand in her 'death'. She would also be safe from the Emperor and free of the Empire- women in comas rarely had to worry about politics and the state of the galaxy at large.

But now she was awake and this definitely brought another perspective into the picture.

What in the galaxy where they going to _do_ with her?

He finally reached the Palace Gates and fumbled with the access codes and card that Organa had given him the last time they had seen each other in person- which happened to be right after the entire mess had started.

He just hoped that the codes were still valid.

Apparently they were, for the secret door Bail had alerted him to, hidden behind several bushes opened silently as he keyed in the codes. It opened to a dark corridor lit with small lamps that gave off only the dullest light and were covered with spidren webbing. Obi-Wan didn't want to contemplate where the spidrens were, as he stepped in the passage way and shut the door behind him.

He had always hated spidrens.

Luckily it wasn't too long before he came to a staircase that opened at the top to Organa's study. He typed in the remaining code and was pleased to find the door opening into Organa's well-lit study.

Organa was sitting there, his back to him as he reviewed what Obi-Wan took as reports of some kind. Quietly, Obi-Wan coughed, causing the Senator to jump up from his chair, spilling the data pads in the area.

"What- by the Force, Obi-Wan!" He turned and strode over to the Jedi. "So good to see you again. How have you been, on Tatooine? And how is Luke?" Obi-Wan sensed that Organa was stalling for some reason or another, but he decided to play along.

"I'm doing well, Senator," he said with a slight bow. "Tatooine may not be the most interesting planet, but it does serve my purposes well. The Empire's presence is limited only to a few garrisons of Storm Troopers, scattered throughout the planet and one main Imperial Office in Mos Eisley."

Organa motioned for him to sit and so he sat, adjusting his robes. "As for Luke, he is doing well. His aunt and uncle are taking good care of him and he is quite the sweet little boy."

Organa stared at him for a minute before sitting himself. "Do you see Luke often? And he is happy there?"

Obi-Wan sensed that Organa wanted to know more than what he was asking, and he decided to comply. "I see him occasionally. Owen Lars, his uncle, has decided that it would be best if 'crazy old Ben' stays away from him, so that Luke won't learn of any of this 'Force-nonsense'. But Beru is kind and Owen _does_ love Luke. He is in capable and loving hands and, most importantly, is far out of the Emperor's eye."

"I see…" Organa trailed off, rubbing his forehead. "Well, I'm glad to hear that, I must say. Occasionally I find it hard to look at Leia and realize that while I am sure that the Larses are good people, Luke simply won't have as many privileges as his sister will. But it is good to hear that he is happy there."

"I know it is hard, Viceroy." Obi-Wan spoke quietly, looking into the other man's eyes. "But it is for the best. It would never work to have Leia and Luke together, especially under the public eye. It is already risky enough, allowing Leia to be raised here. We can only hope that the Emperor and Vader will never realize what is under their very noses."

"Yes, yes, of course." Organa rose from his seat, walking towards his desk. "I believe it is time we discuss the reason for your journey here- Padmé." With a press of a button, a console rose from the desktop. Organa keyed in another sequence before a woman appeared as a holo, curtsying.

"_My Lord_," she said.

"Sairía, how is _La Dormiena_?" Obi-Wan frowned over the use of the term, until he realized what it means. Growing up in the Temple, the young children were exposed to folklore of planets from across the Republic. And Obi-Wan remembered a friend of his who loved the particular tale of the Alderaanian _La Dormiena_- a beautiful princess who was cast into a deep sleep by an evil sorcerer or something (he wasn't exactly sure) and awoken by her loving Knight (he thought). Or maybe she never awoke. In any case, it was a tale of a beautiful Princess who was kept hidden as she slept for many years- a description that fit Padmé.

The image flickers a bit. "_She is awake, my Lord, although I am not quite sure how you would define her present condition_."

"Good…I believe I will be by to see her in a bit. I have a visitor who is interested in seeing her."

"_The doctor you promised?_" Obi-Wan almost had to smile at the commanding tone the maid took with the Viceroy.

"Well, not a doctor exactly…but it is the visitor I mentioned who could help her."

"_Very well, then, my Lord. I am on my way_."

Organa shut off the console and watched it disappear into his desk, before turning to Obi-Wan again. "That was Sairía, the head maid and wife of the steward. She is also primarily responsible for Padmé."

"You call her _La Dormiena_?" Obi-Wan asked, leaning back in his chair, crossing his legs.

Organa looked at him for a moment, before nodding. "Yes…actually, it was Sairía who came up with the name. But it _does_ fit. And no one would ever connect Padmé and the fairy tale together, if, for some reason, something happened and someone else learned of her presence."

"No, I also agree that it fits. I was just curious…" Obi-Wan leaned forward, placing his chin in his hand. "I am just worried. I receive a call in the middle of the night from you with only the words 'Padmé has woken' and that I should come immediately. And here I am and I'm not quite sure what to expect."

With a sigh, Organa sat down again. "Neither am I- and I see her daily. She awoke a week ago- I'm sure you know that." At Obi-Wan's nod, he continued. "When she awoke, she was in horrible condition. She could not speak, see was practically blind and she was so weak she could not move a finger on her own. Yet, although she had gone through so much and was so confused, she had only one thing on her mind- Anakin."

"Anakin." Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head. "Has she asked about him again?"

"Constantly." The Senator cleared his throat. "From the reports I have from Sairía, as well as what I have witnessed myself, Padmé spends most of her time asleep- but in a normal sleep, not the coma she was in before. She dreams often, the machines reading her brainwaves tell us that, and often she will begin to mumble 'Anakin' over and over again. When she is awake, she is helped into a sitting position and will stare at the walls for hours, also mumbling 'Anakin' for most of the time. When someone is there with her, the first thing she asks for is Anakin.

"She is aware of her name, my name and that she has been asleep for a very long time and that something is wrong. And no," Organa added when he saw Obi-Wan's look, "She does not know of the Empire. She only _remembers_ that something bad had happened and that she needs Anakin."

"This is not a good development." Obi-Wan uncrossed his legs and looked down at the floor, before looking back up at Organa. "Is it possible that I see her? And how much does she remember?"

Bail grabbed a data pad from his desk. "It says here that her condition is strengthening, but she is still very weak. She will be confined to bed for another two weeks at least and then she will spend an indeterminable amount of time in a hover-chair. Indeterminable, because it largely relies on her as well- if she has the desire and ambition to walk again, she will much sooner than if she has no caring for the matter.

"It also says that her brainwaves are settling down and entering a normal range. Her memory is slowly returning and with each new stimulus, she remembers more. There is no way to tell if she will ever receive all her memories back, but she _is_ improving. She will, however, be closely watched. Even if she regains her memory, her mind is still weak. She should be kept from all stimuli that could cause her to have a strong burst of emotion."

"Like learning the state of the galaxy," Obi-Wan cut in dryly. "So in other words, she's an emotional wreck who can barely sit up by herself and is set on finding out about the one thing that could cause her to have a relapse- Anakin." He sighed, shaking his head before rising. "Anakin has a lot to answer for."

Organa looked uncomfortable with his statement. "I am sorry, Senator, if-"

"It is nothing." Organa cut in, pursing his lips. "And please call me Bail. No, it is more that I worry for her. Padmé was a good friend- _is_ a good friend, and I hate to see her in such a condition."

"I understand," Obi-Wan said, meeting the Senator's eyes. "I dislike it myself. It really is tragic, to think what happened between her and Anakin…and to think that it all could have been prevented somehow." With a slight shake of his head, he cleared his mind. "And now, if possible, could we see her?"

* * *

Obi-Wan looked around the corridor Sen- no, B_a_il, had led him to, and to the door that was perfectly concealed behind not only a tapestry, but a mural on the wall as well. He watched as Bail opened it and was beckoned in by a woman Bail took to be Sairía, going by how she looked in the holo.

"She's awake," Sairía whispered, "And we've been talking. I believe she's doing a bit better today."

"Thank the Force," was Bail's solemn reply as he turned to Obi-Wan and nodded, entering the room. Obi-Wan followed.

The room was painted pale lavender, with white trim and designs on the walls. Machines covered one side of the room, creating a quiet hum as then ran. A few droids were lined up on another wall and in the far corner of the room was a bed.

Almost in reverence, Obi-Wan stepped towards the bed. Padmé was still beautiful, with her dark long curls and pale complexion- only that now she was almost too pale. She was facing away from him and he _wanted_ to say something to her. Part of him still felt responsible for her condition. Although it had been Anakin who had done the choking, tossing her away like nothing afterwards, it was he who had incited Anakin's anger towards her. She hadn't known that he had stolen away on her ship and it was that very knowledge that cost her everything.

However, before he could move any closer, a thin pale hand stopped him. "Don't go to her yet, sir." He looked into Sairía's dark eyes. "Let me tell her first. She may be doing a bit better today, but she still is weak and easily excitable."

He nodded, stepping back as Sairía made her way over to the bed. He could sense Bail Organa standing by the door, uncertain of what he should do, but he ignored him. At the moment, Padmé was all that mattered.

"My Lady," Sairía began, reaching out to slowly touch Padmé's shoulder. "You have visitors." He watched as Padmé slowly turned her head to Sairía and nodded, before turning her head to him.

And his heart went out to her. Her eyes, which had always shone in a certain light, were dull, without their inner fire. This woman was, in effect, Padmé- yet in many ways she was not- or at least, was not anymore. This Padmé had a broken spirit, hopefully a spirit that could be repaired with time, encouragement and nourishment. But at the moment…

And then she spoke and his heart wanted to shatter again, if for an entirely different reason.

"Obi-Wan," she said, her eyes showing recognition, "Where is Anakin?"

"_Where is my husband?_"


	4. Chapter 3: Matrimony

AN: Where to begin… Life has been hard this past school year. I almost failed out- not because I'm not smart enough, but because I simply didn't give a damn about it. Not a good thing, when you're in your final year and it's _really_ important. My personal life is not that great- nor has it really ever been- and I had some real problems recently.

In October, my arm started to hurt when I wrote or typed. So much, that I went to the doctor and they thought it was tendonitis, so they immobilized my arm by putting it into a full cast- for eight weeks. After eight weeks, when it was _still_ causing me a lot of pain, they had me do an MRI and they realized that it was the bone. So basically, the cast was for nothing, my arm still hurts whenever I type or write a lot and I have to get surgery done. Fun.

School's also been hell lately, I've gotten sick- really sick- several times and in Feb/March, my computer crashed and I was out a computer for weeks until I got it fixed.

Stuff just keeps on adding up. I _will_ continue this. I've got more written. It should be up soon. I'm sorry for making you all wait so long. Yes, I'll admit that part of it was a bit of laziness on my part, but a lot of it was also other factors.

I'll do review responses next chapter. If you ever want to talk to me or say something, either leave a signed review and _say_ you want me to answer back or email or IM me directly. My IM is in my profile and it's the easiest and quickest way to reach me.

And now I'll stop talking and let you read the long awaited Chapter 3.

**Chapter 3: Matrimony**

"_Where is my husband?_"

_Where is my husband?_

Husband.

_Husband_.

"Your-" Obi-Wan choked, "Your _what_?"

He felt as if his heart had stopped beating. He felt as if the world had stopped turning on its axis. He felt as if time itself had stopped in the galaxy. And perhaps it had- at least in that small hidden room.

Bail Organa had a surprised look on his face and Obi-Wan knew it took a _lot_ to surprise the Senator. Sairía looked a bit amused, almost, a soft smile forming on her lips. And Padmé…Padmé just looked annoyed.

"My husband, Obi-Wan. I want to know where my husband is."

Looking into her eyes, Obi-Wan found a fierce determination he recognized. She wasn't going to be easily placated about Anakin and his fate. Yet on the other hand, he did not believe he could bear to tell her what happened. It had been two years since his last encounter with his former apprentice and, most of all, friend, and he _still_ had a hard time dealing with that fact. The collapse he had almost had earlier that same day was testament to that.

But first, before he could go into Anakin's fate- or at least figure out a way to tell her something without telling her _anything_ in reality, he had to come to terms with the fact that his apprentice had been a married man.

It had been hard enough to deal with the fact the two of them were in love, but Obi-Wan had managed. Barely. He had forced himself to ignore it and convinced himself that in reality, it was nothing more than an infatuation or something similar. And that there was no way either of them would act on their feelings.

It wasn't until the end of the Clone Wars that Obi-Wan had begun to face the music, so to speak. There was simply no more denying the fact that his apprentice would sneak away- often at night- and then return the next morning, his shields in his mind clamped down even more than they usually were. And even though Anakin wasn't strictly his apprentice anymore, but a Knight in his own right, he still felt responsible for the lad. And he had been dreading the fateful confrontation they would eventually have to have.

But then the approaching end of the war changed it all. Visiting the Senator to tell her that her lover was not the man he used to be was hard enough. Listening to her protests and faith in him was even worse. Seeing her tears almost brought him to tears himself.

But it was her pregnancy that shocked him the most.

He had sensed for awhile now that something wasn't right. The day he visited her in her apartments while Anakin was away with Palpatine, he could tell that she wasn't behaving in her usual manner. Not that she did not try to hide it, but he was a Jedi Master. He knew that something was wrong that day. However he had figured that it had to do with Anakin and the fact that he knew she and Anakin were in a relationship.

And then seeing her again, days later, telling her what had transpired, he could tell that she was even more off. Something was worrying her. Of course, the fact that Anakin, no, he reminded himself, _Vader _had been there, shortly after he had _destroyed_ the Temple was reason enough for her to be in such a state. But after she had collapsed in his arms, he had been confronted with undeniable evidence- her large stomach, round in pregnancy.

Rounded in pregnancy with _Anakin's_ child.

Or children, as he had later found out. But in any case, her pregnancy was testimony to the relationship she and Anakin had held. Children weren't just conceived by wishing, nor were they brought by flying Ewoks as some parents might tell their children. Conceiving children required a more…physical…act and one that he doubted the Senator would be prone to do without _some_ form of a relationship behind it. Not to mention the fact that Anakin had been in love with her for years.

Simply put, displayed in all its glory, Padmé's stomach meant that not only had Anakin and she shared feelings, but that they had also shared…physical…acts as well. And Obi-Wan didn't want to think much more about it.

Yet here he stood, faced with even _more_ knowledge of his former Padawan's actions. It hadn't been enough for Anakin to break the Code by falling in love with her or having relations of a physical nature with her. It hadn't been enough for him to impregnate her with his children. No, for Anakin Skywalker, trouble-maker extraordinaire- all those _forbidden_ acts weren't enough.

He had to marry her as well.

For some reason, he felt a rage welling up in him as he stared into her broken eyes. She reached for his hand, perhaps in comfort, and he drew it back, eliciting a look of confusion from her.

He wouldn't look into those eyes of hers.

He wasn't going to let her make him feel guilty, as he hurriedly backed away from the bed.

"You- you and Anakin, _my_ Padawan, my _friend_- the same Anakin Skywalker that many considered to be the 'Chosen One'- the same General of the Clone Wars who had his face splayed on every holo in the galaxy with that ridiculous 'Hero With No Fear' title- you were _married_?"

He tried to refrain from shouting, but by the end, he couldn't help himself. He stumbled backwards, finally sitting on a chair that was placed behind him- by his own use of the Force or by Bail or Sairía, he wasn't sure. It didn't matter much anyway. All that mattered was the extent of the relationship between Padmé Amidala _Skywalker_ and Anakin Skywalker.

Padmé Amidala Skywalker.

He connected the name together in his mind. Mrs. Skywalker. Senator Skywalker. She had been all these things for who knows how long - and no one had known.

He felt like crying.

Not in sadness, but in utter confusion.

Putting his face in his hands, he just sat there. He could feel the gazes of the others on him, but he ignored it. It was just too much for him. Anakin's betrayal had taken another step.

_How could he have not noticed_?

Was he really _that bad_ of a Master?

Was he really that bad of a friend?

Of a brother?

Of a _father_?

Looking up, seeing Padmé sitting there, her eyes wide with tears pooling in the corners, her frail hands shaking over the blanket that covered her, a sudden wave of anger washed over him. How could Anakin have done this? How could _she_ have done this? Anakin had always been moody, unpredictable and selfish, tuned to his needs and no one else's. Yes, he hid it well, but deep down; Obi-Wan knew that Anakin would do what _he _wanted, regardless of what it might mean to others.

But Padmé… Padmé was different. Or so he had thought. Padmé was a politician, but one that truly cared about the galaxy. Padmé had seemed dedicated to bringing peace again. She had been a kind, steadfast woman who could always be counted on and was _selfless_ to Anakin's selfish nature.

And yet she had married Anakin.

Staring into the troubled eyes of the woman he had been so worried for these last few years, he could not help but be disappointed. He had _trusted_ her with Anakin, by the Force! He had left their relationship alone, deciding not to interfere, because he had believed that the young, yet infinitely wise woman would help Anakin mature.

And she had betrayed his trust.

He ignored the small voice in the back of his head that whispered that she _had_ in fact 'tamed' Anakin- Anakin had mellowed some over the years of the war, growing in maturity and truly becoming a man and it had to have been in part due to Padmé's influence. But Obi-Wan refused to think of that, concentrating only on what he was feeling now.

He shot up, startling the room's occupants as he took a deep breath and addressed Padmé. "You _married_ Anakin. Do you know what you have _done_? Anakin could have been _saved_ if it wasn't for you! Do you _realize_ that?"

He stood, trying to gain control over his body and emotions, but he was failing. Jedi or not, Obi-Wan Kenobi _was_ human and he had been alone for a very long time. There was no Jedi Order left to remind him not to give into his anger. Still, he tried to grasp the raging emotions within him and send them away.

"_Sir_." Sairía suddenly spoke out, giving him a look that would have brought a lesser man to his knees. She moved towards Padmé simply shoving him away as she bent down to stroke Padmé's hand.

But Obi-Wan was too riled to realize the shape his friend was in. "It was bad enough that he loved _you_, but you just had to love him back! And then you had to consummate your relationship and just _look_ where it got you- pregnant! _Pregnant_! Did it ever occur to you what would happen? And then," He took a deep breath, trying to regulate his breathing but failing, "_Then_ it wasn't just _one_ child, but _twins_! _Two_ of them. And now you tell me that you were _married_! What were you _thinking_?"

"That's enough, Obi-Wan." He almost jumped as Bail put on arm over his shoulders and turned him towards the door. "You've just upset Padmé, who does _not_ need to be even more distressed than she already is. Let's go and discuss this new information _calmly_ in another room."

And it then hit Obi-Wan what he had done. He had let his emotions get away from him with disastrous results. He had not only upset Padmé, but had failed her as well.

And she didn't even remember it.

How was he supposed to tell her of Anakin's fate after this?

He looked over his shoulder before he allowed Bail to lead him out of the room, looking at Padmé one last time. His heart began to break all over again. Not only was she so frail, Sairía having to support her as she leaned forward, her arms hanging limp at her sides, but it was her mumblings that made it even worse.

"Anakin…Anakin, I _need_ you…Anakin, come to me, _please._"

And then "twins…_twins_…what happened to my child, my _children_?"

"_Anakin, your family needs you. I love you. Anakin…"_

The room was sparsely furnished, with a small elegant table and two chairs, as well as a small case for a few very ancient books and that was it. Obi-Wan had to admit that it didn't necessarily look like it fit the Royal Palace of Alderaan, except for the fact that the furniture that _was_ present was costly. Standing in the middle of the room, he refused to sit.

He didn't think he could bear to sit now, not after what had just transpired.

Crossing his arms, he met Bail's heated gaze. "I do hope you realize what you have done," the Senator stated coolly. "I warned you that she was in bad shape, yet you had to cause a scene anyway."

"I am sorry." Yes, he was sorry. There was no excuse. He had reacted very strongly and _wrong_. He was a Jedi, above these things. And yet…

For once in his life, he believed he had just experienced what Anakin had gone through daily at the Temple. He now realized what it was like to have such strong emotions that you couldn't help but to act on them. He now knew what it was like to fight with yourself, knowing that what you felt was wrong, but being unable to control the feelings anyway. For once he looked back on his Jedi training with disdain. Two years on the harsh desert planet of Tatooine, living in solitude, had taught him something.

The Jedi Order needed changing.

And they had discovered it too late.

Back on Polis Massa Yoda had spoke of a new training for the twins, a new way to build the Order. Yoda had told him that he had received a new Master- although Yoda himself was the Chair of the Jedi Council. And when he had learned who that master was, he had been shocked. Qui-Gon Jinn, his own former Master had appeared to Yoda and taught him the ways of the Living Force. The Jedi Order would be resurrected someday, but with new values and teachings.

He hadn't believed it himself then.

Oh, he had in a way. Or maybe it was more that he hadn't _understood_ what that could mean. He had spent a good part of the last two years meditating over these changes Yoda had spoken of, but his meditations had been fruitless. He simply did not understand.

Now he did.

He lowered himself into a chair, leaning back as he closed his eyes in thought. He could sense the senator pulling out the other chair and sitting, his gaze still trained on the confused Master. Finally he spoke as he opened his eyes.

"I let my emotions take over, my lord. I am sorry for that. But I will also express my…" he searched for the correct word, "_reservations_ on learning that Padmé and Anakin had married. And I will also state that we must learn more."

"I had no knowledge of this myself, Obi-Wan." Bail shook his head lightly. "I too assumed that they were nothing more than lovers and that they had no lasting, _legal_ bond to another."

"Yes…" For once both the senator and Jedi were at a loss of speech for words. Finally Obi.-Wan decided to continue after they sat for seemingly endless minutes in silence. "Married. I just…I cannot understand what happened. Anakin, I could understand him wanting to marry her. But that she would also wish to marry him- it is so unlike her." He smiled ruefully. "The one reason I never voiced my suspicions to Anakin or anyone else about their relationship was because I was sure she would keep him in line. She _was_ good for him- she helped him mature greatly over the years they were together again. But now I almost wish I had said something…_done_ something to stop it."

"We cannot change the past." Obi-Wan looked at the senator who was leaning over the table between them both. "We can only hope for a change in the future."

"I know." He sighed, thinking for a moment. "But now we must discuss how we are to go on. Padmé cannot learn of Anakin's fate. And we must also learn from her what she _does_ remember."

"Not much, from what I have heard from Sairía, or at least not anything that was recent. She remembers her childhood and her service in the Senate. Which she is also asking about and which we must tell her of- the Empire and everything it entails. But she does not remember very much close to the attack."

"So she does not remember her pregnancy?" Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair, a gesture he belatedly realized he had picked up from his former Padawan- a thought which made memories spring to life again. The way he had stood on the cliff over his former friend, now bitter enemy, as the rock crumbled in his grasp, the way he had spoken the words he had never forgotten, the way he had watched him fall, down and down, screaming in hate as rocks came loose and joined his descent, the way he could barely force himself to look over the edge and see the splash where the body and rocks hit the lava, sinking.

He hadn't known at the time that an almost invisible ledge in the rock face would save Anakin, keeping him free from the lava that burned everything that it touched. If he had…he didn't know what he would have done. His training dictated that he kill Anakin, somehow bringing the unconscious man to himself or going down to him or even using the Force to propel him off that ledge and into the lava he should have fallen into. Anakin Skywalker was no more- all that existed was the shell of a once brilliant man, inhabited by the evil of Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith. But perhaps there had also been a way to save him. Perhaps after he woke up, in the care of his old friend, he might be inclined to see reason. Perhaps after seeing his wife and child, he would realize what he had done. Perhaps if Yoda survived the duel with Sidious, they could make him come to his senses.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

The truth was that he _hadn't_ looked down that cliff and noticed that ledge. The truth was that when he saw the rocks and boulders tumbling into the lava, he had assumed that his apprentice was among them. The truth was that he hadn't stayed long enough to sense out Anakin in the Force. The truth was he had rushed as quick as he could, to do one last favor to the man Anakin had been.

He had set out to save Anakin's wife and unborn child.

And he had managed to do so. No matter Padmé's condition at the moment or Anakin's for that matter, either.

He had done what he had set out to do.

Only that was important.

"No, she doesn't. At least, if she does, she has not said anything."

"Yes she does." The two men in the room whirled to face Sairía, who was now standing in the doorway, arms crossed, and a frown on her face.

"Thanks to you, _sir_," she glared at Obi-Wan, "she does now remember. Slightly. She believed the child dead before this. And she had no memory that it was twins. Now she is asking about them _both_, wanting to know everything. Or," Sairía said as she entered the room, pulling the door shut behind her, "She did ask. I've put her to sleep again. Your outburst, _sir_, caused much more damage than you would expect. Not only did it get her worked up, causing physical damage, but it also caused _mental_ damage as well. She's spent this last week wavering in consciousness. But not only that, she's also wavering between reality and dreaming."

"I don't- I don't believe I quite understand." Obi-Wan looked at the woman and was met with a fierce glare in return.

"She has spent two years in a coma, as you know. In this coma, she was dreaming. I don't know exactly what she dreamed about, my lords, but I do know that she was very confused. When she awoke, it was because something had happened in her dreams. She has been awake for a week, but she is still very troubled and cannot differentiate between dreams and reality very well."

"So you're saying that although by appearances she is awake, her mind is still dreaming?" Obi-Wan tried to wrap his thoughts around the situation. But the truth was that while he knew the basics of healing the body and the mind, like any other Jedi, they were not his specialty. And therefore there was very little he could do.

"Correct." Sairía stepped closer, nodding her head to the Viceroy. "My lord, as I said, she now sleeps. But she will awake soon and she will want answers. She now knows about the twins and she _will_ ask about them. As well as Anakin…" Again, she shot a glare at Obi-Wan, who sighed in resignation. He and this woman really hadn't gotten off to the right start.

"I don't believe I have introduced you two, Sairía," Bail quickly interrupted. "This is an old friend and someone who may have the ability to heal her, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Sairía at first grudgingly gave him her hand as she bowed slightly. "I thought you were referring to a _doctor_, my Lord, not someone who _may_ or may _not_ have the ability to heal her. But-"

And then suddenly recognition was displayed on her face after she received her hand back from Obi-Wan.

"Did you say Obi-Wan _Kenobi_?" She took a step backwards and Obi-Wan could not help but be slightly amused at her reaction. "You-you're a _Jedi_."

"Really? I was not aware of that fact." Obi-Wan nodded at her letting a slight smile trace his lips. "Truly, Sairía, I meant no disrespect earlier with Padmé. But I was caught completely unaware with Padmé's revelation. She and Anakin… We had no idea the extent of their relationship reached so far as to marriage."

"And Anakin…by the gods, Anakin _Skywalker_? I thought I heard that name when you were _screaming_ in the other room, but I was concentrating on her ladyship more than on what you were saying." She shook her head and Bail vacated his chair for her. She tumbled into it, shaking her head. "Anakin Skywalker…Kenobi and Skywalker…"

Obi-Wan felt his heart tremble again when she spoke the phrase that had made him and Anakin famous. It seemed today that he would never gain freedom from Anakin and his fate.

Sairía looked up once again. "Are not Jedi forbidden to marry? It is none of my business, I know this. But I still wonder…I have cared for the poor Lady since she has arrived here and I wish to help her."

"It is all right, Sairía," Bail finally spoke up. "And you are correct, it is forbidden for Jedi to marry. However she and Skywalker married anyway."

"That must have been a match made in the stars, "she said, flinging a hand in the air, motioning towards the ceiling of the room. Obi-Wan and Bail both looked up in confusion and then gasped.

The ceiling of the room was painted a midnight blue, but it also shimmered from within. Golden stars were portrayed, shimmering themselves and in one corner of the room there was a portrait of a beautiful woman dressed in white, her eyes closed, her hands clasped in solemn contemplation and wait, her head inclined to the corner diagonal, where a portrait of a young man stood, posed in very much the same way. A chorus of lines wound between them, connecting them in silver streaks.

"The woman, her name was Saraía- my name was taken from hers, actually. The legend has always been a fascination in my family…" Sairía smiled softly into her lap, before looking up again and continuing. "But Your Highness, you would know her under a different name," she said, glancing at Bail.

Obi-Wan looked towards him, but Bail shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Sairía, but I simply don't."

"Yes you do." Sairía took a deep breath. "Saraía was a beautiful young woman with many suitors, but she only wanted one, the one who was forbidden to her. He was a dashing Knight of the Order, but because of his vows, he could never take a wife. Yet he and Saraía met in secret and their relationship grew. It is even told that they were married secretly.

"Years passed and no one became the wiser. It was curious as to why Saraía never married, but she was young and an educated woman and so many believed that she just wanted to wait. It wasn't until another suitor came calling for her that she learned how much trouble she was truly in. Saraía learned that she was pregnant with the Knight's child. She hid her pregnancy from the people and tried to refuse the suitor's attentions, but it failed. The suitor learned that she was not only pregnant, but who the father of her child was.

"He became so enraged in his fury and in his fury he almost killed her. Her Knight heard her calling from the deepest corners of the galaxy and rushed to her aide. But by the time he got there, it was too late. She had entered a sleep that she would never awaken from-"

"Le Dormiena!" Bail interrupted, his mouth falling open. "These figures are Le Dormiena and her Knight?"

Sairía smiled softly at him. "Correct. Saraía fell into that deep sleep and her Knight hid her body away in a secret room inside this very castle. He commissioned a portrait of her to be painted, but died before its completion. The artist, a very old friend of them both, decided to complete the painting, but added her own touches in. She painted the ceiling, calling their love one which reached across the stars."

Amikía Devaro, the artist, was actually a relative of mine. Whether she actually knew the Princess and the Knight personally, I cannot say. But in any case, I will admit that once I saw our lady sleeping, I felt immediately that Le Dormiena had appeared once again. And now that I know of the true love story between the two, it makes me feel even more connected."

She swallowed, both of the men's eyes upon her. "What is little known is the ending of the story. There is a reason for that. Even if the legend bears no truth and Amikía Devaro simply wanted to paint a known legend, the end still remains secret. See…" She trailed off, placing her head in her hands before looking up again, "I said that the Knight died before the painting had reached completion. But there is more to it than that. He was so distraught after finding her that he immediately sought out the suitor. He murdered the suitor but didn't stop there. So consuming was his rage that he turned to evil, leaving death and destruction in his wake. He became a feared warlord, and his name was met with terror. But then something happened one day."

"Saraía had birthed her child before she entered her sleep. The child was taken away, hidden in the Knight's very Order and grew in secret, never learning of his heritage until the one day when he met his father. Seeing his son opened up the father's closed and deadened heart and it was to save his son that the father finally gave up his own life. The son journeyed to where his mother laid to look upon her, but when he arrived, she was gone. Saraía had vanished… And the son had the room locked, never to return again. To this day, no one knows what happened to the son."

"Of course, this is all a legend, gentlemen. But…" Sairía took a deep breath, "to me it always seemed real. And it has always saddened me…to think of what happened to them."

But Obi-Wan was no longer paying any attention to her words. Instead he shared a worried glance with Bail and then nodded slightly in response to Bail's questioning look.

It was Bail who interrupted Sairía. "Sairía, I want to thank you for telling us of this ending. I never knew of it and I'm sure Obi-Wan did not either. And I am now aware of how much this might mean to us… What do you know of Darth Vader?"

"Darth _Vader_?" She stared at him in disbelief. "Very little, for personally I would rather _not_ know too much…but he is supposedly young, very powerful, very evil and always keeps his face hidden underneath his hood. Why do you wish to know?"

Bail sighed and reached into a pocket, pulling out a data pad from that morning's newspaper and another older data pad. "I'm going to show you two pictures and I want you to tell me who they are." He flicked a button and a figure appeared dressed in black with a metal cylinder attached to the belt at his waist. He had dark blond curls and blue eyes with a scar over the right eye.

"That's Anakin Skywalker." Sairía confidently said, pointing at it. "He had that scar over his eye…I don't know much about him, but Lignía, an errand girl, was always very interested in him and she'd show me his pictures or talk about him."

"Correct, that _is_ Anakin Skywalker. Now for this one." Bail pressed the button on the other data pad and another figured appeared. There was no difference between the two figures except that one wore a hood over his face and there was a scattering of lines on the left cheek.

Sairía stared at it and then gasped. "No…it can't be…"

"Yes it is." Obi-Wan finally moved over towards her. "Anakin became Darth Vader. Which makes the story all the more tragic _and _it fits your legend even more."

"And you also understand the need for secrecy now." Bail added. At Sairía's enraged look, he quickly went on. "I trust you implicitly, Sairía. Otherwise I would have never trusted you in the first place. And you do deserve to know. I am just telling you to be extra careful and on your guard."

"I understand." Sairía didn't sound happy about it, but still curtsied. "And I should be returning to her ladyship." They watched as she left.

"What do we do?" Bail asked, his eyes still trained on the door.

Obi-Wan turned and looked at Bail. "We try to keep as much information from Padmé as we can while assuaging her fears. I will try to take a look into her mind, but I am not very trained in Mind Healing. And we shall…wait and see what happens. That is really all we can do."

"Yes, I agree. Yet I still wish we could do more for her-"

Bail stopped suddenly as a high scream vibrated through the room.

"_Padmé."_

_Little star_

_In the Night_

_Glowing brilliantly_

_With shining Light._

_Show me what I wish to know_

_Guide me in the ways I chose_

_Teach me what I will achieve_

_In your light I do believe._

_Protect me from all the harm,_

_Hold me in your caring arms_

_Care for me, I will be strong,_

_As you save me from all wrongs._

_Guardian in the sky,_

_Always there on the nigh_

_Sing softly in my ear,_

_Always singing through the year._

_Never forget me when days have gone_

_Even when it has been so long,_

_Keep me near in your heart_

_From you I shall never part._

She cradles the child in her arms, softly singing the children's rhyme she has known since she was a child. She rocks in the chair, smiling down on the babe. It is a cool night, but there is a fire going in the fireplace and she and the child are both wrapped in a blanket. It is so peaceful now, ever since he came back to her.

_Ever since he came back…_

She still does not know where he went. She doubts he will ever tell her and part of her is glad. She knows that it must have been horrible. The way he acted afterwards is testament to that. But she loves him with her whole being and she will never hold it against him. She knows that the war was hard on him.

And it is so nice to have him back.

She stands with the bundle in her arms, softly humming a melody. The child sighs once as it closes its tired eyes and stills in sleep. She smiles down at it, rocking her arms gently. "Good night, my little one."

"Good night, my little ones." She almost jumps in surprise as a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist, pulling her into a hard body as a voice whispers near her ear. But as she recognizes the arms, she relaxes, leaning back against his chest.

"Anakin…" She sighs, snuggling her head into his chest as she keeps her arms around the child in her arms. "You startled me…"

"I'm sorry," he whispers into her ear before slowly pressing his lips to the lobe. She sighs in contentment as he continues kissing a path down her neck to her shoulder where her dressing gown and night gown meet flesh. He moves his arms up from her waist to her own arms as he removes the child from them.

"Come." Nodding at the cribs lined up on a wall, he smiles at her. "It's time for this little one to join the other."

She joins him as he walks over and lays the child down in its crib, slowly drawing up a blanket and flicking on the mobile of stars and moons. She leans against his shoulder while he completes the act of tucking in their child, an act that thrills and calms her at the same time. It is glorious to see him tuck in the child that they both created out of their love.

He finishes and turns to her, smiling in the moonlight before walking over to the other crib and placing a hand in it. She follows him, expecting him to repeat the same process with this twin as he had with the other one. She can see him reach in the crib and draw up the blanket. She sees him flick on the mobile. She sees him stroke the child-

There is no child in that crib.

Her heart shatters and she cannot breathe. She lunges towards the crib, throwing back the blanket to see-

_Nothing_.

There is nothing there except a decorative pillow, a blanket and a stuffed animal. The mobile turns, sending the light of the stars and moons around in a circle, casting light in the darkened corners. But the child- the child is not there.

She collapses, her body hanging over the railing of the crib. She feels him take hold of her shoulders and stand her up, supporting her weight. "Padmé, what is wrong?"

"The baby, the baby…" She moans, barely able to keep her head up. "Where is my baby?"

"Lying right there," he points, hugging her close to him. "Sleeping along with its twin. Come, Padmé, there is no reason to worry."

"No!" She can feel _something_ reach out to her, icy yet burning, and she recoils from it, leaning so far back that he must fight to keep her in his arms. "No! Give me my child!"

The room wavers before her eyes. The darkness reaches out for her, but she will not let it touch her. She _cannot_ let it touch her. Yet Anakin's grip on her shoulders, the way he presses her against his body allows her no freedom from the darkness. She cannot move. She cannot escape. The Darkness approaches, smoky tendrils reaching out for her. She can feel its presence. She can feel the way it is about to touch her skin and the way it will enter her body and take control. She will not give up, even though there is no chance. She cannot fight it.

And then suddenly it leaves her.

It goes after the other twin.

She fights his grasp around her and even though she knows she has not hurt him, he lets her go. She stumbles to the other crib, desperately needing to see her other child. She tears back the blanket.

The child is gone.

"No!" She screams, collapsing into a puddle on the floor. "No!" She bangs her fists on the ground, her fingers grasping the rug and pulling, clawing at it. "Not again! Where are my children? _Where are my children?"_

She does not feel how he picks her up, cradling her against his chest. She does not feel the way he tenderly strokes her hair and forehead and cheek as he leaves the room. She does not hear his whispered words that there is nothing wrong, that her child sleeps and that they only _have_ one child. She does not feel how he lays her down upon their bed and slowly removes her dressing gown. She does not feel how he leans down and kisses her on the mouth, trying to soothe her anxious cries with his lips.

She cannot feel anything.

The darkness has taken her two children- or was it only one? The darkness swirls around her and there is nothing she can do. She feels her strength leave her. She feels the way it wants to take her over. She is helpless. She is weak. Only Anakin can fight this darkness…

"Anakin!" She cries out, only they are muffled by his lips. "Help me!"

He ignores her cries, trying to soothe her as he runs his hands down her frame and back up again, his body on hers, only their clothes separating them. But she has become numb to his caresses and kisses. She cares only for the approaching darkness and the fact that he does not hear or heed her cries.

And as she opens her own eyes, to stare into his, she realizes that there will be no help from him, not anymore.

She is no longer staring into her beloved husband's cobalt blue eyes.

She is staring into a stranger's lifeless yellow eyes.

And now she knows that it is too late.

The darkness has already taken him over.

She screams.


End file.
